Antidote to Darkness
by BlueWater5
Summary: Three aurors are killed and Ron Weasley is dying after finding a dark magic artifact. Severus Snape might be his only hope. Harry, Hermione and Ginny must assist him by collecting ingredients.
1. The Lestrange Mansion

_Disclaimer: While I've read some fan fiction stories I'd swear were written by J.K. Rowling, I wouldn't presume to be in that category._

 _A/N: This is a stand-alone tale, but set soon after and with references to my previous story, "Dragon Plague."_

Harry Potter found himself whistling on the way to the morning Departmental meeting with a pile of parchment and a quill floating beside him. With today's great news he felt on top of the world. It would make Saturday's planned evening out with Ginny even more special because now they had something to celebrate. At work, he had just been pulled aside by the Minister and unofficially told that he had been chosen to take over as Director of the Department when the current one retired at the end of the summer; the official announcement would be released the following week.

He didn't dislike Callista Mirendore, he mused, but he knew he could do a better job. He would re-focus training efforts, implement a "lesson learned" session once a week to make sure the aurors passed their hard-won knowledge along, set up a recognition committee to make sure no one was overlooked because of favoritism, formalize regular social get-togethers to increase the bonds between and among the teams … He found himself at the door of the conference room and began to greet his fellow division heads, waving to Ron, who was already seated.

Harry's good mood was destroyed half way through the meeting. He was half daydreaming about his plans when Callista checked off another item on her list and announced "Sorensen had to take off for the week for a family emergency." Her eyes went around the table and fell on Harry, who hastily covered up the doodle he was absentmindedly drawing. "Potter, can you fill in for him this weekend?"

Startled out of his reverie, Harry automatically nodded his head before realizing what he had agreed to. Inwardly he began to curse. At least he hadn't told Ginny so she wouldn't be disappointed, but he had been looking forward to a romantic night out. He bit his tongue; it was his own fault for not paying attention.

That resolve lasted until he met Ron at lunch in the Ministry of Magic's cafeteria. As they made their way to an empty table, their sandwiches and drinks floating behind them, Ron could see Harry was unhappy.

"So not a good morning, mate?" Ron asked quietly.

Harry snorted. "That obvious, huh?" He sat down in the chair. "So much for not displaying how I feel. Snape would be disappointed in me."

Ron sat down opposite Harry and directed his meal to the space in front of him. "If you're bringing up Snape's name it's got to be bad. What's up?"

Harry took a bite of his sandwich before pushing it away. "It's really not anything bad. I feel like a kid to even complain about something so stupid."

"You going to finish that?" When his friend shook his head, Ron pulled the plate towards him. "If you can't complain to friends, when can you complain?"

Harry looked morose. "It's really not a big deal. It's just that I was going to surprise Ginny with dinner and a play in muggle London Saturday. Our anniversary is coming up next week. With all the kids at Hogwarts, the house sometimes feels empty and I thought it would cheer her up."

"I know what you mean. I thought I'd enjoy it, but it's too quiet sometimes. So when you agreed to take the duty …"

Harry sighed. "You know that nothing usually happens, but per procedure I can't risk being in a muggle area in case I need to immediately apparate when called." Dejected, he used his wand to make his apple do summersaults across his tray. "Like I said, no big deal. I'll take Ginny out next weekend."

Ron put his napkin on the tray and stood up. "No problem, mate. I know tickets can be hard to get. Hermione and I don't have any plans. I'll take the duty this weekend and you can owe me one."

Harry looked up and smiled for the first time since the Departmental meeting. "That would be great, Ron! I doubt I'd be able to get tickets for next weekend at this late date, and we both like the occasional anonymity of the muggle world. Are you sure Hermione won't mind?"

"Nah. Besides, it's not like I'll actually be called in." The two directed their trays to the return bin as they walked back to their offices.

ATDATDATD

Ginny came down the stairs with a twisted gold necklace in her hand. "Love, can you fasten this for me?"

Grinning, Harry drew her to him. "I bought this one for you in Lyon."

"I'd just told you I was pregnant for the first time." Ginny pulled Harry even closer once he'd fastened the clasp and kissed him. When the floo flared up, Harry pulled away just enough to open the connection and glare at whoever had interrupted them.

"Whoa, mates! Get a room!" Ron heckled them good-naturedly. "Aren't you supposed to be leaving?"

"We don't need a room – we have a house," Ginny shot back. "You don't want to see what we plan to do when we get back!"

"Too much knowledge, mates. Harry, I just wanted to tell you it was a good thing I took your duty. You know how the Lestrange manor is finally being torn down? When doing so, they found something in a hidden room that has them worried. I'm heading out with a team to investigate right now."

Harry pulled away from Ginny and gave a slight frown. "Do you want me to come with you? Whatever it is could be pretty dangerous."

"Not to worry. I really just wanted to tell you guys to have a great time. He gave a mock glare at Ginny. "Not too great, though."

Ginny smirked at him. "Well, the house does seem too empty now. Maybe it's time for a fourth?"

Startled, Harry turned to Ginny, only to realize she wasn't serious. He mentally gave a sigh of relief – he loved his kids but he was too old to deal with diapers again - and grinned. "I'm all for practicing!"

Ron shook his head and withdrew his head to close the connection.

ATDATDATD

Harry later told himself that the evening had been going too well. The food was delicious and the play was great. Back at the house, the two changed into comfortable lounging clothes and snuggled together on the sofa in front of the fireplace, though since it was warm they only had a low flame going. They found themselves dozing off. Harry roused himself and was just about to poke Ginny awake to go upstairs when Hermione's voice was heard.

"Harry, Ginny, are you there? Answer if you are – it's an emergency! Come on, are you there?"

Harry was instantly alert. He pointed his wand at the floo. "We're here, Hermione. What's up?" Next to him, Ginny apprehensively sat up straight and reflexively grabbed Harry's arm.

"It's Ron. I'm at St. Mungo's. Something went very wrong. Can you please notify the family? Minerva too – the kids should be here. I've got to go."

Wide-eyed, Harry and Ginny glanced at each other. "Go. We'll take care of everything."

They could see the tears beginning to roll down Hermione's cheeks as she withdrew her head.

ATDATDATD

Fifteen minutes later, after floo-calling the Burrow as well as Headmistress McGonagall and telling them what little they knew, Harry and Ginny were in the waiting area for St. Mungo's intensive care unit. Hermione was hugging a very pregnant witch; Harry recognized her as the wife of one of the other aurors. An older couple walked somewhat unsteadily over to the woman. After a few words with the couple, Hermione gave another hug to the witch and joined Harry and Ginny.

"Milania's husband was also hurt. The healers haven't told us much," Hermione said, holding herself together with an obvious effort. "I did overhear them saying there were two deaths." Harry and Ginny sucked in their breath and enveloped her in a hug.

Over the next half hour, Ron's parents, brothers, and other family members popped in as they were notified. Dazed, a tearful Rose and Hugo arrived from Hogwarts wearing hastily tossed on school uniforms and ran to their mother. Together, they watched healers dash in and out of Ron's room as well as the room next door. All they could see through the observation window were a half dozen healers surrounding Ron's bed. When Harry tried to stop one who had just dashed out the door to find out what was going on, he was pushed aside; not wanting to delay treatment, he re-joined the family. Towards dawn, Harry could feel the desperation of the healers grow. He was just sipping some coffee someone had put into his hands at some point when the door next to Ron's opened and the healers came trudging out. One took Milania Younger's arm and another approached the auror's parents; all three were led away. Harry, Ginny, the Weasleys, and Teddy Lupin watched with ashen faces.

Harry grabbed the arm of one of the healers. "Please tell us what's going on. What's happening to Ron?" The healer shook her head and hurried to join the others in Ron's room. She then came almost immediately back out followed by the rest. Anticipating the ultimate bad news, the faces of those waiting paled, and several slunk to the floor. None of them wanted to break the complete silence, but Harry could hear Rose and Hugo sobbing into Hermione's shoulder. Hermione's own tears, and those of the others in the room, were silent.

As the last healer exited the room, rather than leaving the door open for the family, she shut the door behind her and sealed it with a ward. She then looked around at the gathered family. Exhaustion lined her face. She leaned against the wall and rubbed her eyes. "He's as stable as we can make him for now. He…"

"He's still alive?" Molly shouted in confusion. "Why is he alone in there? Out of my way! Let me see my son now!"

The healer grabbed her arm as she tried to enter the door. "No! That's the worst thing you can do right now!" She sadly shook her head. "It was some sort of dark magic. It took us hours to discover it, but the closer anyone approaches the victim, the more quickly his core is drained. It's already down to a dangerous low. With much more loss he'll be a permanent squib, or even die. For now we've set up a system of remote monitoring." The healer incanted a spell to expand the viewing window into the room.

Molly stood up straight. "I should be able to approach him safely; after all, he got his magical core from Arthur and me."

The healer shook her head again. "His core is a mixture of those of the two of you. It takes elements from both of yours, but has been blended together creating one entirely new. It would not recognize either one of yours and therefore you would be just as toxic as any of us."

Molly squeezed her eyes shut. "So my son must lie alone while he's .. he's …" Unable to continue, she stopped and drew in a breath. She started sobbing and Arthur pulled her against his chest.

The healer reached out for Molly sympathetically. "I'm sorry." Looking away, her eyes fell upon Hermione clutching her two children in their Hogwarts uniforms. She thought a moment. "Perhaps …" She hesitated and then took a breath. "After a new magical core is created, it takes a long time before it becomes fully mature. At about age seventeen, the core is three-quarters blended, which is why that is the age of majority in the wizarding world." Hermione was too exhausted to do anything but put that fact in the corner of her mind to examine later. "After that, the pace of blending slows down. The core is fully mature at age thirty-four or so, which is why your husband's core would reject those of his parents. However, your children are still under seventeen, correct?" Hermione nodded. "In that case, his core should recognize elements of his that appear in theirs. That in turn should confuse the curse and slow down its effects. If they approach him the drain will be less than if anyone else neared, but even then I wouldn't recommend they stay longer than a few minutes since he's already lost so much."

Hermione hugged the children to her, questioningly looking at them. Communicating silently, they squeezed her tightly and nodded. The healer unwarded the door and allowed them to pass. The rest looked through the window to see Ron laying on the bed looking as pale as a vampire. He had bandages around his head, torso, one arm and both legs. Various medical instruments floated above his body. Rose and Hugo tightly held only the one hand that was free and Rose leaned over to kiss her father on his cheek. All too soon, the red numbers over his torso began to flash. Startled, they drew away, and the flashing stopped.

The healer looked at the display. "Please come out now," she urgently called to them. The children emerged from their father's room to the sound of sniffs and sobs.

The hours passed slowly. Furniture was transfigured as people began to prepare for a long stay. Tears were shed, dried, and shed again. Occasionally someone would tell a story beginning with, "Remember when…" and the rest would nod along. Those who had gathered could tell dawn had come by a brightening in the intensive care waiting alcove.

Sunday passed by with excruciating slowness. Healers would come periodically to observe Ron through the window, but the ominous red numbers remained. Rose and Hugo were allowed into his room for only a few minutes at a time. Once in a while an auror who heard what had happened would visit for a short time. Tea, coffee, and food appeared, was half-consumed, and disappeared. Eventually the room darkened slightly as dusk came once more. People began to slump over and fall into restless naps. By the time the room began to brighten again, all were both physically and mentally exhausted.

At eight o'clock Monday morning, Harry rubbed at the dark circles under his eyes. He suddenly stood up and took Hermione and Ginny aside. "I hate to leave you, but I'm going into the office. I'll see what I can find out."

Hermione bit her lip. "Thanks, Harry. Maybe if they know what's causing the drain they'll be able to reverse it." With another hug, Harry left the room.

ATDATDATD

Harry felt out of place as he entered the atrium of the Ministry of Magic. People were carrying on as if nothing had happened. How could they be going about their business so calmly when Ron was so near death? In the elevator to the Magical Law Enforcement Department, a witch and wizard talked about their great weekend and discussed lunch options; Harry had to restrain himself from telling them there were more important things to focus on.

Once he entered the auror spaces, Harry felt more comfortable. Here, hushed conversations and tear-streaked faces let him know the news had already spread. As he made his way to Mirendore's office he was stopped several times by those who desired an update, wanted to express their sympathy, or asked what they could do to help.

When he saw Harry, Mirendore's secretary stood up. "Mr. Potter, I'm terribly sorry to hear about your friends. I know you and Mr. Weasley were particularly close. Please let me know if there's anything I can do."

"Thanks, Augustus. Is the boss in?"

"She told me you'd probably be in first thing. Go right on in."

Harry knocked at the door frame as he stepped in. Callista immediately stood up and walked over to him. "Harry, I'm so sorry. Please, sit down. Thank you for keeping me posted from St. Mungo's. Is there any improvement in Ron's condition this morning?"

"No, ma'am. It still looks extremely grim."

"Do the healers have any idea why this is happening to Ron?" She sighed. "This wasn't a raid – no one was supposed to get hurt. They were just supposed to investigate a dark magic artifact to make sure it was safe for transportation." She paused, shaking her head. "How could things go so wrong? Three deaths - Jasper Younger, Mason Bridgewater and Talia Huntress. We know there was an explosion of some sort and traces of dark magic have been confirmed. We don't know the nature of the dark magic or exactly what happened. We still have people investigating the scene." She summoned a pot of chamomile tea and put it on the table between them.

Harry absentmindedly reached for a cup. "Whatever it is, it's still causing Ron's magical core to degrade, especially when anyone goes near him. Unfortunately, the healers learned that too late in Jasper's case; they didn't realize that by standing near him to treat him they were actually accelerating his demise."

Callista put her hand on Harry's arm in sympathy.

Harry took a sip of tea and shook his head. "It's my fault Ron is lying in that bed. I was supposed to be there." He lowered his head and rubbed his eyes with the heals of his hands. "I'd already made plans with Ginny so Ron said he'd take my place. Ma'am, are there any leads at all? I'd like to be on the team that is investigating this."

Callista squeezed his hand. "Whatever the team was looking at disintegrated. There's nothing much to see. I'm sure your family needs you now more than the investigative team does."

Harry put his cup down. "Since this involved dark magic at the Lestrange mansion, has anyone contacted Professor Snape? He may be the best qualified person to ask about this thing, whatever it was."

Callista drew back. "Mr. Potter, Snape is not an auror, nor is he an employee of the Ministry, nor is he any longer on retainer."

"True, but …"

"Do you have such a low opinion of this office that you think we can't handle it?" Mirendore asked as her expression turned from sympathetic to cold.

Harry was startled at the vitriol in her response. "No, ma'am! I was just thinking that Professor Snape…"

Callista's face hardened. "Potter, Snape was my professor for seven years. He's a mean, vindictive, untrustworthy, malicious man who may have repented but who at one point was a true Death Eater. I'll not have this department or any of its aurors beholden to him."

Harry sat up straight. "But ma'am, if he can help us find …"

Callista stood up. "I'm sure he can't. And if I find you have approached him to ask him for his help, I'll pull your security clearance faster than a crup chasing a snitch."

Harry stood up and deliberately looked down at his chair as he pushed it in to prevent his boss from seeing his expression. He shoved down his immediate reaction and took a moment to think. He had no doubt Callista would follow through on her threat. He also knew he could fight it and get it back, but the question was how long it would take. In the meantime, he would be cut off from any news the MLE had learned, and access to that information could be vital to Ron's survival. He drew in a deep breath and looked up.

"Yes, ma'am. Since I'm not needed for the investigation, may I take the rest of the day off and return to St. Mungo's?" he asked in forced politeness.

Callista's expression softened. "Of course, Harry. Take two days. Please let me know if there's anything I or anyone in this department can do. I'll let you know if we discover anything at this end."

Harry kept his rejoinder to himself and a false expression of gratitude on his face as he walked out of the office. He vowed to himself to make it a priority to do everything in his power to ensure Snape's retainer was fully reinstated once he was made department head.

 _Please review!_

6


	2. Snape's House

_While I've read some fan fiction stories I'd swear were written by J.K. Rowling, I wouldn't presume to be in that category._

Harry found that little had changed upon his return to the intensive care waiting alcove at St. Mungo's. A few empty cups sat on the corner table, not yet picked up by the hospital elves. A few more chairs had been transfigured. Molly and Arthur were standing by the observation window; Molly was no longer sobbing but the streaks of the tears down her cheeks were not yet completely dry. Fleur was dosing on a chair, her long hair hanging over the back while Bill was holding her hand. Percy and Audrey sat together silently. George sat quietly, lost in his own memories. Hermione, Rose, Hugo, and Ginny were squeezed together on a small sofa, seeming to find comfort with one another. Teddy, his wife Victoire leaning on his side, was absentmindedly tossing a rolled up paper ball up and down with his wand.

Harry quietly motioned to Hermione. When she got up, Percy and Audrey opened their arms to the two students. Ginny followed Hermione into the hall.

Whispering, Hermione grasped Harry's arm. "What were you able to find?"

Harry shook his head. "Not here," he whispered back. Down the hall, he motioned them into an unoccupied room he had spotted on his way in and set up security and silencing wards.

"What's up?" Ginny asked urgently.

Harry motioned them to sit down on the bed and collapsed onto the visitor's chair. He wearily rubbed his face.

"Unfortunately, MLE is running blind. They have no idea what happened. Without anyone able to tell them what occurred, they can only rely on the original report of what the object even looked like."

"So all they know is that some sort of dark magic artifact is killing my husband?" Hermione asked incredulously. "They have no idea how to stop it? What do the experts say?"

Harry snorted. "What experts? It's been years since something like this came to light. MLE used to go to Azkaban to get information, but there's no one there anymore who is in any shape to provide good data. Malfoy senior hasn't been heard from for years since he moved to the continent. Which leaves …"

"Snape," Ginny said flatly.

Harry nodded. "But under Mirendore, MLE has cut off its contract with Professor Snape. She even pressured St. Mungo's to do the same claiming that he was a security risk. She hates him with a passion. She flat out forbade me from contacting him on pain of immediate revocation of my security clearance." Hermione and Ginny watched him in curiosity as he pulled out a piece of parchment with an address on it. He put it on the small nightstand next to the bed. He looked meaningfully at Hermione.

For the first time since getting word that she needed to get to St. Mungo's, Hermione felt her mouth twitching as it tried to twist into a smile. "Do I detect your inner Slytherin at work, Harry?"

Harry smirked back in response. "You know me too well." Then his expression fell. "It will be difficult. The problem is that I don't know if Professor Snape is willing to help – he was understandably bitter when MLE cancelled his contract and successfully put pressure on St. Mungo's to do the same, especially after he developed the Dragon Plague cure. I know we'll eventually be able to convince him to help us even without him owing us any sort of debt anymore, but we can't afford taking too much time to convince him do so."

The three looked at each other in despair. "We'll just have to do our best to persuade him. He never liked Ron, but that was only because he was my friend," Harry said glumly.

Ginny brushed her hair back behind her ears. "He doesn't owe us anything, but maybe if it would put us into his debt …"

Harry looked thoughtful. "I think you're on the right track, but we're asking a lot considering if he's caught helping us he could get into trouble for interfering with an investigation."

Hermione clenched her hands into fists. "I'm not going to let Ron die because your boss can't see beyond Snape's Death Eater days to the honorable man he is …" She stopped her rant and looked thoughtful. "Ginny, can you come with me? I need a witness."

Ginny nodded. "Count me in if it will help Ron. Um, what am I witnessing?"

Hermione smiled grimly. "Muggle psychology." She turned to Harry. "You'll watch the kids for me, and contact me immediately if anything happens?"

"Of course." Harry wasn't sure what she had in mind, but she seemed to believe it would work. He didn't want to delay her, and knew that in this case ignorance meant deniability. "Good luck." As Hermione and Ginny left for a disapparation site, he returned to the waiting room and took a seat next to Percy, Audrey, and the kids.

ATDATDATD

As they walked up to the modest house, Hermione brushed her hair back from her face and Ginny pulled her cloak more tightly around herself. "Ginny," Hermione whispered, "don't stop me no matter what I say or do."

Ginny felt a chill go down her spine. "What are you going to offer?" she asked.

Hermione clenched her teeth together. "I'm just doing something that an honorable man will have to reciprocate." She knocked at the door.

"But do you really think…" Ginny stopped short when the door was opened by a woman with shoulder-length wavy brown hair. She looked curiously at them. "May I help you?" she asked with a soft Irish lilt.

Hermione gave an uncertain smile. "Actually, we were looking for Professor Snape. He's a long-time … acquaintance of ours. Is he in, by any chance?" she asked.

"Aye, he felt you cross through the wards. When he saw who it was he muttered something to himself, put away his wand and went to get the wee one. Would you like to come in?"

Ginny was about to enter when she felt Hermione's hand on her arm. She looked in askance at Hermione, but stopped and stood back.

"Thank you, but we'll wait for him here."

"As you like, but …" the woman stopped and looked behind herself. "Severus, my love, we have a couple of bridies on our doorstep who seem to be hesitant about entering."

Behind her, Snape stepped into view, holding a squirming infant. "Maybe that means they can be on their way quickly then," he said in a hopeful tone of voice. He turned from examining Hermione and Ginny to his wife. "Nuala, I think Fianna wants you."

"But …" Nuala looked questioningly at the two women on the stoop.

Severus sighed. "Very well. Come on in, you two. This is a muggle neighborhood and you stand out."

Hermione took a step into the house as Snape started walking towards his wife. She took a deep breath. "I, Hermione Jean Granger-Weasley, do thank you for the favor of allowing me to cross your threshold and acknowledge my debt …"

Snape stopped his movement suddenly. The jerk startled Fianna, who started to cry. "Stop, Granger! What are you doing?" He pulled the baby back to his chest.

Hermione continued to speak over him. "…to you which can only be repaid by my actions." At this, a silver thread emerged from her left palm and stretched towards Snape. It paused for a moment when it reached the potion's master left palm and then formed a lasso encompassing his hand and Fianna. It became taut before dissolving, leaving an afterimage of glittering spots.

Nuala took three steps towards Hermione and grabbed her arm. "What have you done to my wee babe?" she hissed. "So help me, if you've harmed her you'll rue the day you were born witch or no!"

Hermione stood with her mouth open, speechless. She blinked. "But that wasn't… I read it would form a connection but …I didn't mean …." She looked helplessly at Ginny, who stared back, the wand she had pulled out when Nuala had approached hanging limply down.

Snape kissed the top of Fianna's head and when he gently jiggled her she stopped crying. He mentally incanted a wordless diagnostic charm and pointed his wand at the baby. He then incanted a second charm. When he was done, he glared at Hermione before his expression softened and he turned to Nuala.

"It's all right, my dear. No harm was done."

"Well what was that … thing? Don't lie to me Severus!"

"Perhaps we should all sit down." Looking back he saw two set of eyes peering around the corner and sighed. "You two as well. There's no harm in you knowing." From the door tumbled two boys. The oldest, who looked almost ready to start Hogwarts, was a miniature version of his father, with dark hair and eyes forming a sharp contrast against his pale skin. The toddler took more after his mother, with brown hair and blue eyes. The older one stared for a minute before his eyes lit up.

"Mrs. Potter! Mrs. Weasley! I remember you from when we went to the Hogwarts quidditch game! Is Mr. Potter here? I've been practicing my moves and …"

Snape held up a hand. "Not now, Stephen." The boy cocked his head curiously but obeyed. The potions master turned back to the visitors and motioned to the right. The boys scampered into the room followed more slowly by the adults. The room was lined with books. A chess set was sitting on a table which lay in front of three worn but comfortable chairs and a small sofa. The chess pieces did not hide the fact that they had been eavesdropping; two kings were holding their queens tightly while the knights formed a line in front of them. Hermione noticed to her dismay they were all glaring at her. On the wall was a portrait with two people at a beach with storm clouds giving way to the sun; the two looked out of their frame in curiosity, occasionally whispering to each other. A family photo on the end table showed a very pregnant Nuala holding hands with Severus while Stephen and Patrick kicked a ball.

Severus and Nuala sat down on the sofa. Nuala took the baby back from Severus and inspected her closely. Satisfied, she hugged Fianna tightly. Hermione and Ginny each took a chair and the two boys squeezed themselves into the remaining one.

Severus squeezed the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath. "Granger, what in Merlin's name impelled you to commit such a brainless, imprudent, reckless act? I thought you were the brightest witch of your generation. What made you so totally irresponsible? You know better than to cast a spell without knowing the result!"

The eyes of the boys had gone round as they listened to their father. Even the toddler was enthralled by his voice.

Hermione winced, knowing there was some truth in the accusation. She had researched it, but obviously something had not gone according to plan. "All I wanted to do was…"

"This will be good, I'm sure," Snape muttered to himself loud enough to be heard by the others as he rubbed his eyes.

"…was to ask you for your help."

"And you thought invoking an obligation spell was going to do that? You couldn't have just asked?"

Hermione hung her head. She looked over Ginny for support and then shook her head. "I couldn't risk you saying no."

"You do realize that you've put yourself into not only my debt but that of Fianna. I can only speculate that her magic was both too similar to mine and too close to me when you made the vow. The magic couldn't separate the two. Moreover, you made the vow for no reason, which means you want something significant and think you can somehow guilt me into agreeing. You forget that as a former spy, professor and now a parent I'm familiar with psychological manipulation."

Hermione looked down at her folded hands and then up at Snape. "Ron's life is at stake. He was attacked when he was investigating a dark magic object found at the Lestrange mansion. Three other aurors are already dead."

Snape snorted. "I've been told in no uncertain terms that my expertise is unwelcomed by the MLE and that if I interfere in any way in any investigation I would be tossed into Azkaban." Warmly looking at his wife, he added, "As I rather like the life I've built up here, I have to decline. I, Severus Tobias Snape, do declare your obligation to me to be over by leaving this house. Now, go!"

"But…"

Nuala stood up. "I'd thank you to leave now. You've caused enough disruption to my family."

Hermione and Ginny looked at each other helplessly but stood up. They headed into the foyer and started out the door. Hermione looked back to plead one last time, but Nuala, still holding Fianna, stood implacably. They were about to descend the steps out to the walk when they heard Snape behind them.

"Stop." They turned around. He took a deep breath, sounding weary. "It didn't work. Even though you followed my command I can still feel a prickling that tells me that the debt was not cancelled. If you're going to owe something to the two of us, I can at least hear the details of what occurred."

Hermione and Ginny reentered the house. The group returned to the family room and resumed their seats. Hermione avoided looking at the portrait but she could feel the disapproving glares. Glancing downwards, she noticed one of the queens from the chess set was shaking her head in condemnation. Snape turned to his eldest son. "Stephen, I don't care what house you get sorted into. If you ever do anything so rash, so, so – Gryffindorish …" Hermione shuddered as he spat out the word like an obscenity "…your backside will be blistered so badly that you won't be able to sit for a week. Do you hear me?"

Stephen could tell his father was serious even though he knew his dad would never follow through with his threat. He nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Nuala, could you take the Stephen and Patrick with you?

"Of course." She grabbed Patrick and led the protesting youngsters from the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Snape turned to the two visitors. "So what can you tell me about this object?"

Hermione and Ginny shook their heads. Ginny spoke up seeing Hermione was trying to keep herself together. "It was completely destroyed when it exploded. Ron is the only living witness as to what happened, and he's been unconscious ever since. Even if he were awake, almost no one can approach him. The closer people come to him, the quicker his magic is depleted."

"If no one can be near him, how do you expect me to learn what happened?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "Rose and Hugo, our children, can approach him for very short periods of time – something about Ron's magical core being incorporated into theirs. I know they'd be happy to relay information to you."

Snape snorted. "You expect me to save your husband's life via second-hand information from schoolchildren of a currently unconscious man? I couldn't help you if I wanted to."

In the silence that followed, Hermione felt the hope that had begun to rise again when she was invited back into the house once again fade away. Ginny, however, felt mulish. Not wanting to glare at their one hope, she looked around the room. Her eyes fell on the family photo. She glanced between the photo and the potions master several times as an idea began to form. "Professor," she began slowly, "what if it wasn't second hand?"

Hermione drew in a breath as she caught on. "Maybe if you polyjuiced into one of them you could get into the room. Would that be enough?"

Snape nodded thoughtfully. "Transforming would alter my magical signature enough that the magic that's endangering Mr. Weasley could be fooled, at least for the short period of time needed. Even unconscious, his mind should have enough activity that I should be able to use legilimacy to see what happened before the explosion." He paused. "If, that is, I had the polyjuice base available. It's a restricted item due to the potential for misuse. Not to mention impersonating a minor is illegal, even with their permission. And legilimizing a person without their consent is also unlawful unless authorized by the Ministry."

Hermione forced herself not to respond before thinking about what her former professor had said. Or rather, what he hadn't said. He had not said he wouldn't do it. Hermione gave a watery smile. "And I know you'd never do anything illegal, even to save a life, especially if it would prove to those in the know how wrong MLE was to cut off your contract. Plus, I know it would be quite a challenge." She paused. "It's a good thing Rose is mature enough to be able to keep a secret."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Hugo's not an option?"

Hermione shook his head. "I wouldn't risk it. He could blurt it out by accident. And I've read too much on the risks of using obliviates on children's minds to allow you to do that."

Tapping his forefingers together, Snape sighed. "To succeed, I'll have to legilimize you and your daughter. I need to know how she acts around others from an observer's point of view and whether she acts any differently when you're not around. I'll need to see her actions since she arrived at the hospital in some detail, and a do a surface skim so I can guess how to act should something new happen, such as a friend appearing unexpectedly."

Ginny blinked. "But the only ones at St. Mungo's when we left are family, and they'll all support you when we explain..."

Interrupting, Snape turned to her. "It's not necessary for anyone other than the four of us to know what I'm doing at this point. The more who know, the greater the chance MLE will find out." He shook his head at Ginny's expression of disbelief. "All it takes is for someone to make an aside while getting a cup of tea, not realizing anyone else is listening. They're distraught. Could you blame them for wanting to reassure each other that there's hope?"

Ginny reluctantly nodded. "I see why you were such a successful spy."

Snape smiled grimly. "Hard earned lessons. I wouldn't recommend learning it my way." He turned back to Hermione. "Granger, you do realize payback will be hell for this little stunt."

Hermione nodded. "I wouldn't expect anything less. Thank you."

The three stood up. Snape ushered them once again to the door. "There's a muggle coffeehouse two blocks north of the entrance to St. Mungo's. Meet me there with Rose in an hour."

Hermione and Ginny nodded, and disapparated with quiet pops.


	3. Legilimency and Polyjuice

_While I've read some fan fiction stories I'd swear were written by J.K. Rowling, I wouldn't presume to be in that category._

Hermione and Ginny were greeted with somber faces upon their return to the waiting room. Someone had transfigured a more comfortable sofa on which Arthur on Molly were sitting, quietly whispering to each other as they held hands. They didn't see Bill and Fleur; they assumed the two had gone to get refreshments or some much needed rest. Percy and Audrey had dozed off, their necks hanging at uncomfortable angles. George and Angelina were embracing Rose and Hugo, who seemed to have gone numb. Harry was standing at the window with one hand pressed against it and his head bowed; Teddy had his hand on Harry's shoulder while Victoire stood on her husband's other side, looking numb.

Hermione and Ginny walked over to Harry and looked through the window. Hermione's mind supplied the beeps normally associated with muggle medical equipment as she saw various instruments with their threatening red numbers hover above him. Periodically, two or three of the monitoring devices jostled each other to get into a better position. Ron's deathly pallor seemed unchanged. She caught Harry's eye. He shook his head. She walked over to her children and gave them a hug. George looked at her over their heads. "We still haven't been able to get ahold of Charlie. Contact with the Romanian dragon preserve is sketchy at best."

Hermione nodded. Turning her attention to her children, she whispered, "How are you holding up?"

"OK. Where'd you go to, mom?" Rose whispered back.

"To try to get more information that could help your father."

Hugo looked up. "Any luck?"

"Maybe." She paused, figuring out a way to word what she had to say. "I have a private message for Rose from a close friend who heard about what happened. Can you come with me for a bit?"

An exhausted Rose gazed through the window. "I guess. They only let us in for a few minutes max once an hour and they just kicked us out, so we can't do anything here. I feel so helpless, mom."

"I know that somehow your father senses that you're here and appreciates it. That's all we can do for now." Hermione put her arm through Rose's and led her out the door while Ginny took Hugo's arm and led him to a sofa. Harry casually followed them out a moment later. Only George looked up to watch him leave.

The room that Harry had taken them into earlier was still unoccupied. Hermione waited for Harry to notice the open door and come inside before closing and warding it. Hermione and Rose sat down on the bed while Harry collapsed onto the chair next to it. "Any luck?"

Rose looked up at the unexpected question. "Have they found something?"

Hermione pulled her daughter closer to her. "Rose, you may be the only one of us who can help your father at this time, but you must promise never to tell anyone about what you're going to do."

Rose looked puzzled. "I'd do anything to help Dad, you know that. And you know I can keep a secret. But why would we have to hide the fact they we're helping Dad?"

Hermione glanced and Harry and then looked Rose in the eye. "It's hard to explain why, but the one person who may be able to learn what happened last night has been forbidden from helping the MLE investigate. In fact, if word gets out he's here, he could get arrested. To help, though, he needs to be able to get close to your father."

Rose looked confused.

Sighing, Hermione took Rose's hand. "Do you know what legilimency is?"

Rose looked bewildered. "Sure. It's reading someone's mind, isn't it?"

Harry couldn't help snorting. "Don't tell Snape that."

"Close enough. Do you remember us talking about Professor Snape?"

Rose continued to look baffled at the abrupt changes in conversation. "Of course. He's the controversial hero who spied on Voldemort. He came to a quidditch game at Hogwarts with his son a few months back."

Hermione nodded. "Although not everyone thinks as highly of him as we do. He was able to spy for so long because he was able to occlude, to hide his thoughts, and it could have cost him his life if anyone other than Headmaster Dumbledore on our side knew what he was doing so it was nearly universally believed he was working against us. While he protected his own thoughts, he was able to gain a lot of information for us through legilimency. I just came from his house. He thinks that your father's brain retains images of what happened last night. He thinks that if he can get close to your father he will be able to find out what attacked him. Once we know what happened, we can start looking for a cure."

"So why can't he come right now?"

Harry grabbed Rose's other hand. "St. Mungo's would probably welcome him if this were any other case even though under pressure they officially cancelled his contract with him. However, my boss, the head of the MLE, has let the hospital know that should Professor Snape show up here now, he's to be taken into custody. She's not convinced that any actions he takes can be trusted."

Rose looked from one to the other. "But you trust him?"

They looked back at her. Hermione squeezed her hand. "Totally. If he tries something and it doesn't work, it's not because he didn't try his best."

Rose wrinkled her eyebrows in confusion. "So why do you need me?"

Hermione glanced at Harry and then back at her daughter. "Have you ever heard of polyjuice?"

ATDATDATD

Less than an hour later, Hermione and Rose were at the coffee shop described by Snape. They found him looking at home in a gray turtleneck and jeans at a corner table, a cappuccino and a newspaper in front of him. As soon as they sat down, he cast a muffliato. He looked from Hermione to Rose and back to Hermione. "Have you filled her in?"

Hermione nodded. "And she knows you're the best hope of saving her father's life and that she's never to speak of it to anyone." Rose nodded in affirmation. Continuing, Hermione added, "Do you have the potion with you?"

Snape didn't bother to respond. He stared at Rose. "You must follow my directions to the letter. I won't be able to help your father from a ministry holding cell."

Rose took a deep breath. "I fully understand, Professor."

Snape looked at her carefully, evaluating her. Making a decision, he nodded. "Very well. First, you're to use the facilities – I refuse to do so while I'm using your body. When you're done, you and your mother will exit from here and head to the right. Sixty meters down there's an office building on the right with a florist shop in the lobby. Go inside. I'll be waiting by the lift. The stairwell is right next to it. I'll cast some muggle repelling charms to keep anyone from there. While you walk there, you will be remembering everything you've done since you found out your father was injured. I'll legilimenize you and then your mother. You know what that is?" He waited for Rose's nod. "While I'm learning about your recent actions, I'll lightly scan whatever thoughts are uppermost in your mind."

At this Rose blushed. Snape's voice became less authoritative. "I'm not looking to find something embarrassing; I just need to learn about any common friends and events that someone may refer to so I can act appropriately." Rose once again nodded.

He resumed, in what Hermione remembered from her Hogwarts days, his Professor Snape voice. "I'll then transform. Your mother will then apparate you to -" he paused and looked at Hermione. "Is your house empty, and if so, is it likely to remain so?"

Hermione nodded. "I warded it when I left."

Snape turned back to Rose. "Your mother will apparate you to your home where you'll wait in your bedroom until she retrieves you. I don't care if you get a vision of your father gasping his last breath – you will stay there until she comes to get you. Under no circumstances will you leave the house, answer the floo, or respond to a mirror call. Do you understand?"

Rose bit her lower lip but nodded. "They only let us approach Dad once an hour. We'd better hurry."

Snape nodded. "If I don't get what I need this time, I'll have to wait for the next opportunity. I have enough polyjuice to last for three hours. If I can't get what I need by then, I'll have to rethink the approach, or else it's not possible." He looked at Hermione. "I'll need you and Mrs. Potter to run interference with the others in the hospital. If they think something's wrong with Rose, they may call a healer, and that would lead to unwanted questions I won't be able to answer."

"Of course. I'll warn Ginny. However, I think everyone is going to attribute any unusual behavior to the circumstances."

Snape stood up. "I'm counting on it, but believe in back up plans. It's kept me alive more than once."

ATDATDATD

Hermione and Rose didn't have any trouble following the directions to the office building. They found Snape apparently casually perusing a bulletin board by the elevators but it was obvious he had heard them for he slipped through the door at the end of the short hallway. The two witches followed.

Snape cast several spells non-verbally. Hermione recognized the wand movements for muffliato and the muggle-repelling spell. When Snape saw her questioning look, he snorted. "That last one temporarily masks any magical traces in the area. You'll be able to apparate Miss Weasley home without being detected. As this is a muggle area, your signatures would otherwise stand out."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "That's fascinating! I didn't know there was such a spell. Is it widely known? Can you…?"

Holding up his hand, Snape stopped her. "The short answer is no, but we don't have time to discuss it at this minute." He took out a large vial of familiar looking potion. "A strand of hair, please."

Hermione was about to take one off of Rose's blouse when Snape stopped her. "Fresh, please."

Startled, Hermione started to ask "But why does that …?"

"Because it has no chance of being contaminated with the traces of others!" Snape almost snarled. "Merlin! Must you question everything? I've a mind to …"

"I'm sorry." Without any more hesitation, Hermione plucked a long strand of Rose's red tresses. She was surprised when Snape held out the vial for her to drop it into rather than taking it from her. The potion hissed and turned ochre. Rose stared at it with fascination. "Wow – so that will be me?"

Snape looked at her and nodded. "Now I'm going to legilimenize you. It won't hurt. Think about school and on your actions since your father was hurt." Rose wasn't sure what to expect as she screwed up her face in concentration. To her surprise, nothing happened. Finally she bit her lip. "Umm, is everything OK?"

Hermione was shaken. "What went wrong?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "You were expecting sparks?"

"Well, no, but you don't even have your wand out."

"A wand is not necessary for experts. Do you really think legilimency would be as useful as it is if the person being legilimenized knew what was happening?"

To his surprise, Hermione looked at him in admiration. "I can see why the MLE fears your ability. You could make them all look like, well, dunderheads."

Snape snorted and turned back to Rose. "Now think of a typical day at Hogwarts." Rose shrugged and nodded. A minute later, Snape turned back to Hermione.

"In this case, getting the information I needed was easy because Miss Weasley knew what I wanted and fully cooperated. It's much harder to be discrete and to collect the information when that's not the case."

Looking puzzled, Rose asked, "But did it work?"

Snape looked at her. "Your best friend is Laila and she has a yellow puffskein that likes to hide under her bed. Your friend Robert likes his eggs scrambled. When you arrived at the hospital, you realized how serious it was when your Uncle George didn't crack a joke when he saw you."

Rose looked awed. "Wow! Can I learn to do that?"

"Perhaps, but this is neither the time nor the place. Nor, I need to warn you, is it easy, or even possible for most people."

Rose nodded solemnly.

Snape then turned to Hermione. "Now for you. Are you ready?" Hermione nodded. When Snape looked at her she expected to feel a presence in her mind, but felt nothing unusual. A few seconds later, Snape turned away from her. He shook the vial in his hand and took a deep breath. He then swallowed a third of it.

Rose gaped as the tall, dark-haired wizard became her twin. With a twirl of his wand, Snape transformed his clothes to match those of the student. Hermione was impressed that even wrinkles and the small stain on leg of her pants were duplicated.

Snape-as-Rose cleared his throat and pushed 'his' now red hair out of his eyes. "You may take Miss Weasley home now. Once she's settled, come back and we'll return to St. Mungo's."

"Should we save time and just meet up there?"

Her daughter's twin rolled her eyes and sighed. "And raise questions as to when I learned to apparate and what I was off doing by myself when my father is critically ill?"

Hermione blinked. "You look and sound just like my daughter!"

Snape-as-Rose tapped a foot. "That's what polyjuice does, you know."

"No, I mean, yes, but even your mannerisms …"

Snape-as-Rose sighed again. "I did spend most of my life observing teenagers, as you recall."

Hermione shook her head. "Professor, you're amazing. Come, Rose."

Snape-as-Rose held up his hand. "Remember, Miss Weasley, as we previously discussed, you are not to leave the house for any reason other than it burning down. If someone should floo call, you are not to answer it, and if someone enters anyway you are to hide from them. You are only to leave once your mother returns for you." Somehow even with a teenaged girl's appearance, Snape was able to be a commanding presence when he chose to be.

Rose nodded, and the two witches apparated away.

ATDATDATD

Snape-as-Rose spent the few minutes Hermione was gone getting used to his borrowed body. He had expected his balance to be different. He did some stretching and then went up and down a set of stairs. He slipped a bit at first, but then got used to his lighter weight. Walking around the landing, he got used to a shorter stride. He mentally thanked Rose for wearing pants and tennis shoes. The last thing he needed was to twist his ankle while walking in high heels. He had to jump back as Hermione apparated back to the stairwell in order not to bowl her over. He caught the railing to avoid stumbling down the stairs. "It's about time you got back," he snarled in Rose's voice. "Are you ready?" He pulled himself up.

Hermione nodded. "Rose won't step out of the house, or let herself be seen or heard. She'll play her role."

Snape-as-Rose looked up at Hermione. He'd always before been taller than her and the new perspective took a moment to get used to. He took a deep breath and forced himself to give a wavering smile. Hermione was amazed at the transformation. "You are Rose," she breathed.

Snape-as-Rose looked pleased, but didn't say anything else before grabbing Hermione's hand and apparating the two of them to St. Mungo's.

 _Review, please!_


	4. St Mungo's

_While I've read some fan fiction stories I'd swear were written by J.K. Rowling, I wouldn't presume to be in that category._

"Where do we go from here?" Snape-as-Rose whispered as soon as they arrived in the St. Mungo's apparation lobby.

Whispering back, Hermione replied, "The ICU, but let's go via the cafeteria. That will explain our absence." Snape-as-Rose nodded in approval. As they swung through the large room, they grabbed two cups of tea. Hermione then led Snape-as-Rose up a flight and down the hall. She nodded at the auror stationed outside the intensive care unit and guided Snape-as-Rose in.

Molly and Arthur were now dozing on the sofa in front of the observation window. Bill and Fleur had returned and were talking in low voices on another couch with a plate of half-eaten sandwiches in front of them. Teddy, Victoire, and Audrey had left, but Percy was rubbing his eyes with Hugo snuggled next to him on a plush chair. Hugo was staring into space and smudged dried tears could be seen on his cheeks. George and Angelina were standing next to them with arms around each other. Harry and Ginny looked up and came over. "No luck then, I take it?" the red-head whispered.

Hermione shook her head. "All's good. We just need to get 'Rose' in to see Ron as soon as possible."

Harry was able to hide his expression, but Ginny's eyes opened wide and she stared down. "The healer just came through, Rose," she said in a loud voice. "You and Hugo will be able to see your Dad in a few minutes." Snape-as-Rose mentally shook his head at how unsubtle Ginny was being but forced himself to smile sadly and brush the palm of his hand under his eye as if holding in a tear. "Thanks, Aunt Ginny," he said in a wavering voice. Harry began to look uncertain, questioning if Snape had actually come or if he would appear later.

Snape-as-Rose let go of Hermione's hand and went to the observation window. The scene hadn't changed from Rose's memory. Ron lay deathly still. When George pulled him close, he forced himself to completely relax and turn his face into Rose's uncle's chest while mentally escalating the scale of the payback that Mrs. Granger-Weasley owed him. Angelina lay a loose arm around the two of them. Fortunately, they did not seem to expect Rose to say much. He shifted slightly so he could look through the window to plot his next move.

By the time the healer returned, he had calculated the angle and was satisfied he could disguise what he was doing from those in the observation room, which left only Hugo. He turned watery eyes up to George. "Excuse me, Uncle George." George gave him a brief squeeze before letting go.

Snape-as-Rose returned to Hermione and Ginny. "Mum," he said in a soft voice. He hugged her as if seeking comfort. As he did so, he put his head between those of the two witches. "I need you to keep Hugo out here when I go in for at least a minute so he doesn't interfere with what I need to do."

Hermione and Ginny looked at each other and nodded. When the healer motioned to the two children, Hermione held Hugo back on the pretext of giving him a hug. Ginny quickly spoke up. "Hugo, my dear, would you mind letting your sister have a just a moment alone with her father? She's very distraught but feels the need to hide it in front of us." At Hugo's quick nod, she put her arm around him. "Thank you, love."

Snape-as-Rose entered Ron's room. He carefully embraced Ron with his back towards the observation window. He brushed his hand over Ron's face as if trying to memorize it, opening Ron's eyelids as he did so while continuing to block the view of the others. Fortunately, it took him only a few seconds to find what he was looking for and a few more to watch the memories. When he heard Hugo come into the room he ran his hand down Ron's face again, closing the eyelids and sitting back. When Hugo took his hand, he held it tight. Glancing up at the observation window, he saw Hermione, Harry, and Ginny watching him. He turned his gaze back to Ron. When the healer motioned from the door, he gently pulled Hugo away from his father and left the room.

He pulled out a handkerchief he found in Rose's pocket and dabbed his eyes. When Hugo went to sit with his grandparents, he quietly made his way to the door. One by one, Hermione, Ginny and Harry followed. As each left, they saw the person ahead of them slip into the unused room down the hall and followed them in.

Snape-as-Rose grimaced when Harry walked into the room. He slammed the door behind Harry so hard that had he not muffled the sound the bang would have been heard all the way back to Ron's room. He then warded the room with wand movement Hermione didn't recognize. Emotionally and physically exhausted, Harry become irate. "I've just as much right to be here as Hermione and Ginny," he snarled.

Snape-as-Rose attempted to raise an eyebrow, but found his temporary body didn't have the muscle memory to do so. He crossed his arms in front of him. "So once again the boy-who-must-be-at-the-center-of-everything has to poke his nose into something that's not his business. I WAS trying to keep knowledge of my participation to the minimum number of people."

"It IS my business," Harry snarled back. "It should be me lying there." His ire began to soften as he looked at his beloved niece's adorable face. He shook his head to remind himself it was Snape behind those features.

"And that…"

Hermione stepped between the two. "I'm sorry, Professor," she said trying to placate both of them. "It was Harry's idea that you could help us. I know you don't want your participation known, and Harry knows that too. Rest assured, he won't tell anyone. His neck is on the line also if MLE finds out."

Snape-as-Rose took a deep breath. If what he suspected was true, Potter's participation could actually be useful. Moreover, he prided himself on accepting reality, and the reality was that Mrs. Granger-Weasley and Mrs. Potter would not keep the secret from him long so he might as well be brought in at the beginning. He mentally shrugged, then cast a tempus charm and swallowed some more polyjuice.

"Did you get what you needed? Do you know what happened?" Hermione asked eagerly.

Snape-as-Rose walked over to the window. He tapped his fingers together for a few moments before turning back to them. "I think so, but I need to think about what I saw." He looked at Harry. "Do you have access to a pensieve? I'd like see the memories again from a different angle." Harry stood up. "I'll be back in five minutes."

When he left, Snape started to pace in the small space available by the bed. Ginny tried to keep still, but finally had to speak up. "You'll be able to help him, right? Please tell me you can!"

Snape glanced up without pausing his pacing. "If it's what I suspect, I might be able to, but I'm going to need help to get everything ready in time." Ginny and Hermione looked as each other with renewed hope and silently agreed not disturb his concentration. He refused to say anymore until Harry returned and pulled out a pensieve from under his cloak. "Here you go, Rose – I mean, Professor Snape," Harry corrected himself. After Snape extracted his memories and placing them into the bowl, he motioned the others, and the four entered the memory the potions professor had taken from Ron.

The quality of the memory wasn't as good as some he'd seen, Harry noted. It was jerky and the sound was muffled, as if coming through a closed door. It began with the four aurors entering a largely empty room. The room had once been magnificent but had seen better days. The woodwork was cracked and the wallpaper was peeling. Two broken chairs had been shoved into a corner. A chandelier was dangling unevenly from the ceiling. The curtains were half off of their rod, creating a triangular patch of light on the floor. Discolored patches showed where portraits or paintings had been removed. Behind one such empty spot was what had once been a large hidden chamber. In front of it by several meters was a platform on which sat a pulsating black, oily mass resembling a flobberworm tying itself into knots.

"What is that thing?" Hermione whispered as the four aurors approached the table.

Snape had walked ahead and was examining the – thing – carefully. "I believe it's a maighnead draíochta. I can't be sure as I've never seen one, or even a picture of one."

Harry shuddered. "I don't like the looks of that thing. I can sense its darkness. It's like it's trying to attack me."

By this time the four aurors were next to the table and engaged in a heated discussion on how best to handle it. They repeatedly circled around the platform with wands outstretched to detect any magical emanations.

"What's it supposed to do?" Ginny whispered.

Snape was circling the table with the aurors but looked up. "They were created about a thousand years ago by wizards to protect the entryways of their dwellings from enemies. They usually sat harmless because everyone knew it was best to avoid them. If a spell was cast it its direction, however, it would became active, penetrating into the bodies of those casting the spell and stealing the magic and sometimes the lives from those attacking the home. It would lose some of its mass each time it activated until it was gone. It this case, it was completely dispersed among the four aurors and hence its complete destruction."

Hermione cocked her head. "But how does it determine who is attacking and who is defending?"

Snape looked at her approvingly. "That was precisely the problem. It would take the magic from anyone casting spells in its direction. Unless the homeowners put their faith fully in it and refrained from defending themselves with spells, they'd fall victim to it as well. Since it's hard to just stand by when being attacked, many homeowners found themselves squibs if not dead. They went out of fashion quickly." He turned his attention back to the memory. "Now watch."

Ron suddenly held up his hand. The four watching the memory leaned in close to hear what he said. "I still don't like it, mates. Hang on a moment while I grab a broom and look at it from the top." The other aurors nodded and stepped back as Ron apparated home. The watchers were drawn with him. Ron ran through the anti-apparition boundaries and dashed inside. He yelled out but obviously didn't expect an answer as he grabbed his broom from the entryway and ran back outside.

"I thought I heard him, but I was in the kitchen, and by the time I walked out front he was already left again," Hermione whispered. "I never noticed his broom was gone."

Back at the mansion, Ron ran in from where the anti-apparition wards ended. The other three aurors had been staying away from the object, leaning against the far wall, but joined him as he reentered the room.

"He has the right idea, but doesn't follow through. Watch," Snape commanded.

Ron spoke briefly to the others and then hopped on his broom. He flew up and held up his wand. The watchers heard him yell down, "It's safe, mates. No magical signature coming from it."

Snape grimaced and held up his hand. "That's the mistake," he whispered.

Together, the four aurors cast a restraining field. As their spells reached the table, a tremendous explosive force reverberated outwards in all directions. The last thing the watchers saw from Ron's viewpoint before everything went black was the room spinning around and the three other aurors collapsing on the ground. The four pulled out of the pensieve.

"I don't understand where they went wrong," Harry said questioningly. "They seemed to follow appropriate procedures. Ron even remembered to examine that thing from above."

"There's another direction, Potter," Snape-as-Rose pointed out.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Below," she stated.

Snape-as-Rose nodded. "And that was the deadly mistake. The maighnead draíochta was reported to have constantly sent out, for want of a better word, feelers to determine if any spells were being cast. The owner would have faced that side away from the house to avoid accidently activating it. Whether by accident or design, this one was facing upside-down, so the aurors' wands wouldn't have picked up any emanations. When they attempted to cast an encircling restraining field, however, it felt it was being attacked, and responded."

"But wouldn't the table have prevented them from getting a good reading from below?" Ginny asked uncertainly.

"Yes, if they didn't pick it up. The maighnead draíochta can be physically handled without harm. Of course," Snape-as-Rose continued snidely, "I'm not sure that aurors are trained to do anything without their wands."

Harry rolled his eyes but said nothing.

"If you're right about what it is," Hermione asked, "is there a way to reverse the effect?"

"Obviously, not on those who died," Snape-as-Rose said slowly as he sat down. "But for Mr. Weasley, I believe so. Once the fragment of the maighnead draíochta that lodged within him is destroyed, its dehabilitating effects will cease. After that, Mr. Weasley's magical core should be able to repair itself."

"But how do you destroy something that protects itself by attacking those using magic against it?" Ginny asked.

Snape-as-Rose smirked, an expression Hermione found strange on her daughter's cute face. "While the maighnead draíochta protects itself against spells, it should not be able to protect itself against a potion. After all, it was designed to protect the home against spell attacks."

"So it only protects against foolish wand-waving, huh?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

Snape-as-Rose rolled his eyes. "Precisely, Mr. Potter."

"Do you know the formula for the necessary potion?" Ginny hopefully asked.

"I believe I can create one with a bit of research." Snape-as-Rose paused. "I can conduct the research entirely on my own, of course. However, it would be speedier if I had some assistance to narrow down the various options."

The other three didn't hesitate. "Where do you want us to go? Hogwarts? What do you want us to look into?"

Snape-as-Rose grimaced. "As much as I detest playing host, I have a small library that may be of more use than that of Hogwarts."

Harry grimly smiled. "Let me guess. Dark magic books."

Snape-as-Rose crossed his arms in front of him. "Feel free not to use all the resources available, Potter, because they offend your sensibility. In that case, don't forget to invite me to your friend's funeral."

Hermione forcibly grabbed Harry's arm. "Harry, if healing Ron takes dark magic, then I'm for it. If you don't want to get your hands dirty with dark magic, go back to the waiting alcove." Sarcastically she added, "Maybe you can be of use comforting Ron's parents."

Ginny stood up. "That's enough!" she berated. All three looked at her, thinking to themselves that she sounded just like her mother Molly chastising her misbehaving children. Ginny took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Professor. Of course we understand, don't we Harry?"

Harry looked chagrined. "I'm sorry. I'm just exhausted. I know you're just doing what needs to be done. I'm in." The other two nodded.

Snape-as-Rose looked at each one before grimly nodding. "It won't be easy. I can't make any promises."

Hermione looked at Harry and Ginny before turning back to the potions master. "Professor, I told Rose that I trust you completely. I stand by that." The other two gave quick nod of agreement.

Snape-as-Rose couldn't hide a pleased look. "Thank you. It's time for Rose to return." He looked at Hermione. "I'll understand if you wish to be by your husband's side."

Hermione shut her eyes to keep her tears from falling. "The problem is I CAN'T be by his bedside. I need to be doing something to help my husband. However, I can't spend all my time away either, as the others would get suspicious. In fact, that's true for all of us. But I'll spend as much time as possible helping you find the cure."

Snape-as-Rose nodded in satisfaction. "Come to my house in an hour. That will give me time to find the books I think will be of the most use." He unwarded the room. "Let's go."

 _Please review!_


	5. Ingredients

_While I've read some fan fiction stories I'd swear were written by J.K. Rowling, I wouldn't presume to be in that category._

Forty-five minutes later, Rose had been brought back to the intensive care unit waiting area. Hermione had informed her daughter of the plan for Ginny, Harry, and herself to slip away as often as possible and Rose volunteered to do what she could to cover for them. The three individually left the hospital and rendezvoused outside of Snape's house.

Nuala opened the door at their knock. She glared at Hermione, but motioned them in. "Severus is expecting you," she said, keeping a watchful eye on Hermione. Leading them through the kitchen, she brought them to an inconspicuous door next to the pantry. The three could feel strong repelling and disguising wards. Snape, returned to his intimidating appearance, was waiting for them. Without saying a word, he held each of their hands up to a small panel and muttered an incantation. He hesitated before opening the door. "Be careful. These books are not particularly friendly. I've told them to behave, but they may try to test you."

"Thanks for the warning," Harry muttered.

Snape smirked, which now looked more natural on his own face than it had on Rose's. "I can't help it if the books have discriminating tastes."

"Or something," Ginny whispered nervously.

To their surprise, when Snape opened the door, the room beyond looked like a typical study, though one with an unusual number of bookshelves. Four chairs surrounded a table in the middle. Several tomes were open, and other stacked on the table had multiple bookmarks inserted into the pages. Snape sat down and motioned the others to do the same.

"I've had a small bit of luck with preliminary research," he started abruptly. "I'm pretty confident I know the correct potion base and will commence brewing it after I confirm that I am right. I also think I already have a good idea about the key ingredients I will need to add to complete the potion," he continued, "but I can use your help to identify the exact ingredients while I concentrate on the arithmancy needed to get the precise proportions." He looked at them unhappily. "If they're what I suspect, I could also use your help to gather them. Mr. Weasley's core is fighting to become stable, but unless he gets the potion soon it's a battle he won't win."

The three nodded. "Of course!"

"Don't be so eager. As you can expect, they won't all be easy to obtain."

"We'll do whatever's needed, Professor," Hermione promised. "What do you need?"

Snape sat back. He tapped his index fingers together. "The maighnead draíochta is designed to protect in all six directions, so the ingredients must come from all directions as well," he began to explain. "From the ground, lava should do. Newly formed rock would be best."

Hermione nodded. "Igneous rock should be easy to get." Ginny looked at her questioningly. "Rock from a volcano," Hermione explained. She turned back to Snape. "Perhaps from Iceland?"

Snape slowly shook his head. "That was my first thought," he admitted, "but remember when the maighnead draíochta was invented. I think it's more likely that the most powerful ingredient would come from a Mediterranean volcano, since that sea was seen as being in the middle of the world."

"Mt. Etna?" Harry suggested.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Very good. You're close. Unfortunately, although active, Mt. Etna isn't currently erupting. I think we'd have more success with lava from Stromboli, which is constantly active."

Ginny blinked. "Where's that?"

"North of Sicily. Fortunately, it's a major tourist site."

Out of habit, Hermione summoned a quill and parchment. "So we need a rock from Stromboli to represent down. "And from the sky – a cloud? Perhaps condensation in the form of rain?"

Snape shook his head. "A good thought, but I think for something of this magnitude even more is needed. A piece of the sky itself."

Looking confused, Harry asked, "But how do you capture the sky?"

"Think of being a wizard a thousand years ago. If you heard of a meteor falling, wouldn't you think it was from the dome above the earth? Extremely rare fragments of certain meteorites are invaluable because they are required catalysts in a few advanced, generally dark, potions."

Ginny frowned. "You don't happen to have one, do you?"

Snape smiled grimly. "Fortunately for Mr. Weasley, I do. Thousands of years ago, a meteorite smashing into what is now Estonia was witnessed by the small population in the area. Even today, the lake that was formed is considered sacred. The local wizards collected the shards and over time they've were dispersed throughout Europe and Asia, and eventually the world. I don't know if their magical properties are inherent in the fragments or were imbued into them over time." He shook his head. "Anyway, at one time the Dark Lord desired a potion that required such a catalyst. I'd hoped when I told him what I needed he would forget about it, but instead he obtained a fragment of one for me." Snape looked at Harry. "You don't want to know at what cost, and I don't mean in terms of galleons." Harry felt a cold shiver. Snape resumed talking. "He never asked what I did with the shard – I assume he thought it was consumed in the potion and I never told him otherwise."

Ginny rubbed the back of her neck. "At least this time the potion will be made for a good purpose."

The potions master nodded. "I will be glad I won't have to occlude while making this one to avoid thinking about what it will be used for."

Hermione looked at her notes. "So now we need something from the north. Let me guess – the Vikings at that time were the biggest threat, so something from Scandinavia."

Snape nodded approvingly. "Good. We'll have to do some research on magical Norse ingredients, but that won't be hard."

Hermione beamed at the compliment. "But east and west eventually meet, so do we need something from the Bering Sea? I think that's opposite of London. Or perhaps the antipodes as that would be the furthest away? The Aboriginal magic is unique. Incorporating it would explain why the maighnead draíochta is so powerful."

Snape shook his head. "Now you're thinking as a twenty-first century witch rather than a tenth century one. Witches and wizards then knew no more of the world than their muggle counterpart. They may have known vaguely of Greenland from the Norse settlements there, but due west was only the ocean. I suspect the oceanic merpeople will be able to provide what we need from the west once we have identified it."

Hermione noted that down as Snape continued. "To the east, of course, I suspect the most powerful magical ingredient would be from one of the Chinese dragons. Unfortunately, the most powerful dragon of a thousand years ago, the Xian Raptor, was extremely rare even then and is now extinct. The Guilin Armortail is the closest modern equivalent."

Ginny looked up with interest. "What part do we need? A scale, a bone, a tooth, or a claw?"

Snape pondered the question, rubbing his index finger against his lip. "I suspect eggshell fragments would work best. Dragon eggs represent new life, and we are trying to restore Mr. Weasley's life to him. They're also magically powerfully objects in and of themselves since the mothers imbue them with enchantments to protect their developing wyrlings."

Hermione looked up from her writing and tapped her quill on her parchment. "And from the south – something Egyptian?"

Snape nodded. "The Egyptian wizarding community is both ancient and powerful. Narrowing down which ingredient, however, will take some research."

"But you've already identified three of the six key ingredients," Hermione said with determination. "An igneous rock, the meteorite shard, and dragon eggshell. We'll help you find the rest." At that, each took a book and began to research.

ATDATDATD

A half hour later, Ginny was the first one to find something. "Listen to this: Thor, god of thunder, armed with a hammer that none other could lift, was said to protect the world." She looked at the others with a strained yet mischievous smile. "I think he was a relative. It describes him as having red hair, including a red beard and eyebrows." The smile faded. "And red flashing eyes."

Though the others looked disturbed, Snape just looked thoughtful. "If he had a touch of the Dark Lord's darkness, that might make the potion even stronger. It sounds like you're on the right track. Go on."

"With his mighty strength, he destroyed the giants threatening the world. Amulets in the shape of his hammer demonstrate faith in his ability." Ginny looked up. "It says that the amulets have been found in graves in Denmark, Sweden, and Norway. They're made of silver and other metals. Some are as small as two centimeters long and may have loops attached so they can be worn on a necklace."

Snape looked thoughtful. "I suspect that some of the amulets were imbued with magical power as they were forged. If so, they will need to be melted down to be fully effective."

Harry noted his spot in the book with his finger and looked up, cocking his head. Before he could speak, the book growled at him and slammed shut. Snape loudly cleared his throat and gave the book a stern look. The book slowly fully reopened, releasing Harry's trapped finger. Rubbing it, Harry muttered, "Thanks. This book's been giving me trouble when I try to turn the pages." He glared at it for a moment before looking up again. "Professor, didn't you say the meteorite didn't melt?"

"I'm glad you were listening, Potter," Snape dryly replied. "The key difference is that no one forged the meteorite shards; whatever power was imbued into them were place onto existing shapes. The amulets, however, were man-made from the start."

Hermione rubbed her eyes. "So would an amulet made from a metal with a lower melting temperature work best?"

Snape nodded. "Or at least be easier to work with. If a metal is too hot when combined with the other ingredients, it can prevent the proper interaction from occurring." He looked at Harry. "Which is why it's good that I won't have to melt the meteorite shard. It's almost 95 percent iron, which has a very high melting temperature. If I poured molten iron into a cauldron, it would cause the potion to vaporize."

Hermione closed her eyes in concentration. "I'm trying to recall my chemistry. Don't gold and copper have higher melting temperatures than silver?"

Snape looked impressed. "Very good. Yes, I think we'd be better off looking for an amulet that melts at a lower temperature. Tin would be preferred, but bronze is an option."

Hermione took another note. She rubbed her eyes again.

"You OK, Hermione?" Ginny asked.

Hermione kept her eyes closed. "I'm sorry. I just don't feel like I'm doing my best."

Harry leaned over and took her hand. "Hermione, why don't you go back to St. Mungo's? We probably shouldn't all be away at the same time or the others will get suspicious. Rose and Hugo need you. Try to catch a short nap. You need it."

"I need to help, Harry! I can't just …"

Ginny grabbed her other hand. "I know you need to help. But right now your children need you too, and we need you at your best."

Hermione paused, then nodded in resignation. "Keep me advised, yeah?"

"Of course." Hermione left, and the others returned to their research.

ATDATDATD It was approaching midnight when Snape got up to bring in sandwiches and tea prepared by Nuala. They had been consumed by the time the next lead was found. "Listen to this!" Harry exclaimed, breaking the silence. "The phaeophyceae macroalgae magicae, found only in the Sargasso Sea, has long been cultivated by the oceanic merpeople. Its magical properties, if any, are unknown, but legends speak of this plant as once being used in healing potions."

"That sounds promising, Potter," Snape agreed thoughtfully. "If I can harness its healing properties, it could be very useful indeed."

"So now we just need something from the south," said Ginny hopefully. "The trouble is the Egyptian wizarding culture is so robust that I've no idea how to identify one thing that you could use."

Snape closed the book in front of him and closed his eyes, tapping his index fingers on his lips. He then summoned parchment and a quill and did a quick calculation. "The potion so far has ingredients from both plants and minerals, but only peripherally from animals in the form of eggshells. We need to strengthen the animal component. What references did you find to Egyptian animals with magical properties?"

Ginny thought a moment. "There were quite a few, actually. Cobras – I thought you'd like that one,"

Snape rolled his eyes. "After my last encounter with a snake I prefer to avoid them," he commented dryly.

"Oh – sorry, I wasn't thinking. Cats, jackals, ibises ... even scarab beetles." She shuddered. "They're pretty yucky, though. I'm glad we didn't use them at Hogwarts."

Once again, Snape rolled his eyes. "It's a good thing you didn't go into potions."

Harry was confused. "What's so bad about scarabs? We used lots of beetles in potions class."

Ginny found the reference she was looking for in a book and wrinkled her nose. "It says the scarabaeus sacer magicae – am I pronouncing it correctly?" "Close enough. Go on." "… is a magical type of dung beetle. They collect dung into balls and then eat it. They even lay their eggs in it, and the larva feed on it."

Snape snorted. "That's the worst thing you can think of?"

"To ingest in a potion? Maybe not the worst, but I wouldn't want to swallow it."

"Your brother may not have any choice, Mrs. Potter."

"Ron may not have a choice to do what?" came a voice from the door.

"Hermione!" Harry and Ginny rose and walked over to her. "How's Ron doing?"

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. "He's slowly declining. The kids are now limited to one minute with him every hour." She turned to Snape. "Nuala let me in, though I don't think she's still not fully convinced I didn't harm Fianna. What have you found?"

Rather than immediately responding, Snape took the book from Ginny and read over the passage. He grabbed another book as a reference and then returned to his calculations. Not wanting to risk ruining his concentration, the others were silent. He finally looked up.

"Fortunately, I think the scarab will work for the animal component. The scarabs are the only animals that are known to navigate and orient themselves using the Milky Way, which will interact with the properties of the meteorite. They're also symbols of death and rebirth, which is appropriate when trying to heal someone close to death."

"Dung beetles?" Hermione asked weakly.

Snape shrugged. "Beetles are easy ingredients to work with." He tapped the quill. "I think I can brew a potion that will counteract the effects of the maighnead draíochta if I have access to all the ingredients. Now that I know what I'll be adding, I can start the base immediately. After everything else is collected, it will still take another day to complete the potion." He looked somberly at them. "It will be tight. According to my calculations we only have a few days before Mr. Weasley's core is destroyed."

"We'll help gather the ingredients," Hermione said with determination.

Snape slowly nodded. "The arithmancy shows promise, but the success of the potion depends on whether we correctly deduced the appropriate directional ingredients and how soon it is administered. Even if it works in theory, it won't do any good if irreparable damage has already been done. Time is essential."

The three nodded in understanding. "You already have the meteorite fragment," said Harry with resolve. "I'll take the first portkey west and find the oceanic merpeople. Do you have any gillyweed I could use?"

Snape frowned. "Won't your office question why you're away from the hospital while your friend is dying?"

Harry rubbed his eyes. "Merlin, I hadn't thought of that. Do you know how to get ahold of an untraceable portkey?"

Snape smirked. "Who, me? You think I might know of such a nefarious device?"

Harry only looked at him.

Snape shook his head, disappointed that the bait wasn't taken. "I happen to have some unregistered, untraceable, international portkeys, but they weren't cheap, especially since I purchased ones for which I can set the destination. Potter, I trust you to forget that I know about such things the instant you have returned. Otherwise I'll obliviate you. I also want you to reimburse me for their cost."

Harry nodded. "Of course."

Snape looked at him, evaluating his statement. He was satisfied with what he saw and continued. "You may first want to talk to the merpeople in the Black Lake at Hogwarts to see what might appeal to their cousins in trade."

Harry nodded again. "Once I've done that I should have time to take a portkey to Stromboli and get the igneous rock as the ingredient from below. That should be simple. How big should it be?"

"About the size of your fist should do it."

Ginny spoke up with determination. "I've visited Charlie several times at the dragon reserve in Romania and have traveled to China as part of the Holyhead Harpies. I still have friends there. I'll head there. How much should I collect?"

Snape rifled through his arithmancy calculations. "The shells from three dragon eggs should be more than enough."

Hermione bit her lip. "I'll go north. I don't want to be away too long, but I have to help. I can do some research here before I go so it won't take long for me once I get there."

Snape nodded. "I'll get the potion base started and then head to Egypt. I know some potioneers there who will be able to lead me in the right direction. In the meantime, all three of you should be seen at St. Mungo's." He rubbed his eyes. "Meet me back here at nine this morning so that we can narrow down your destination to a specific point. I'll then set the portkeys."

ATDATDATD

Tuesday morning, the group reassembled in Snape's house. As they walked through the house, Snape stopped in the kitchen and opened a warded cabinet. He took out three vials and gave one to each of them. "Pepper-up. You all look exhausted." Nuala, Stephen and Patrick, who were eating at the small table, watched as the three gratefully downed the potion. Stephen and Patrick giggled at the steam coming out of the ears.

In preparation for their return, the potions master had pulled down a different set of books. These were now intensely scrutinized.

Hermione was the first to speak up. "I've identified four stores that may sell the amulets. Oslo's Heks Gamle Markedet looks like my best option. Two stores are located there that specialize in old magics. If I can't find one there, I have the addresses of two other stores, one in Stockholm and one in Copenhagen."

Snape nodded and started an incantation over an old bicycle chain. "That sounds promising." He paused. "How soon do you wish to go? Would you like to check up on your husband first?"

Hermione rubbed her eyes. "No, when I left I told everyone I wanted to go to a medical library to do some research on his condition. No one blinked an eye. In fact, they seemed to expect it."

Harry snorted. "Even I believed you for a moment."

Snape merely returned to making the portkey. "There – set to go off in ten minutes." Hermione took the chain. Snape put a grimy mitten down. "The return phrase is 'mission success.'"

Hermione picked up the chain and mitten. Pausing for a moment she turned to the potions master. "Professor, thank you. Even if you're not successful, I don't regret putting myself in debt to you. At least I feel I'm doing something to help Ron."

Snape nodded. "I make no promises, but I will do my best."

As Hermione walked out the door, Ginny didn't waste any time. "I talked to an old friend of mine who now flies for the Guilin Xiaolong, which is one of the best quidditch teams in China. I told her I was collecting some dragon souvenirs. One of her friends from high school has a brother who works on a dragon reserve. If you can get me to Guilin, I'll take it from there. She said she'd be expecting me about seven tomorrow morning her time, so I need to leave here about midnight. I'll spend the day at the hospital."

Snape nodded and put a dented candlestick on the table. He again made the intricate series of wand movements. After the brief glow faded, he gave it to Ginny. He then took out a seashell and gave it to her. "The candlestick will go off at midnight. When you wish to return, use the shell with the same return phrase - 'mission success.'" Ginny nodded.

He turned to Harry. "And where would you like your portkeys to land you?"

"As we discussed, I'll go to the Black Lake first. Once I know what to bring with me, I'd like to have a portkey bring me to the Azores. From there I'll hop on my broom and fly west over the Sargasso Sea until I find an eastern clan of oceanic merpeople."

Snape snorted. "If anyone else gave me that plan I'd give them a Troll for insufficient planning. I will admit, though, that you sometimes have amazing luck."

"That could almost be seen as a compliment," Harry observed in a surprised voice.

"Commenting on factors beyond your control is hardly a compliment," Snape smirked.

Harry muttered to himself and then continued. "Once I get the magical seaweed to you I'll head to Stromboli. I thought at first I could simple use an accio, but decided that was not wise."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Yes, summoning a rock on a mountain full of them would cause regrettable consequences," he said dryly. Ginny winced as she imagined the results.

Harry ignored him. "Anyway, I'll get to the rim, pick up a couple of still steaming igneous rocks, and return here."

Snape nodded and put a pair of pliers on the table. "Pick an activation phrase you'll remember for the Azores jaunt."

Harry sat back. "How about 'rescue'?" Snape snorted, but bent over to continue the incantation.

When he finished, Snape set out a chipped plate. "You'll want a different phrase for the portkey for Stromboli to ensure it doesn't accidently activate when you use the other one."

"Can you make this one 'best friend'?"

Snape shook his head. "If all aurors are as unimaginative with choosing phrases, it's no wonder the Dark Lord was able to so easily guess Ministry passwords."

Harry snorted. "You're right. I'll add that to my list of things to change if I do in fact become head of the department."

Snape held out a battered ash tray and a plastic dinosaur. "For your return trips."

Harry carefully pocketed all four items. "I assume the activation phrase to return here is the same as for Ginny and Hermione?"

"No smart aleck remarks. In this case, use 'mission success one' and 'mission success two' for the two return portkeys. I kept the return phrases simple for your benefit."

"Of course. Thank you, Professor Snape." Harry and Ginny nodded in farewell, and left the house, Ginny for St. Mungo's and Harry for home to use the floo to get to Hogwarts.

 _And the search begins … Please review!_


	6. Hogwarts

_While I've read some fan fiction stories I'd swear were written by J.K. Rowling, I wouldn't presume to be in that category._

Fortunately, the Headmistress was in when Harry contacted her office. "Harry, my lad! Come on through!" She opened the floo for transportation.

Harry couldn't help but feel at home as soon as he felt the castle's magic. He shut his eyes and breathed in deeply, feeling a sense of calm for the first time since the horrible accident had occurred.

McGonagall smiled to herself at the sight. "There's nothing like it, is there?" She turned grave and shook her head. "I still can't believe it. Has Ron shown any improvement? Do the healers know how to tackle the dark magic yet? The poor bairns. How are Rose and Hugo holding up?"

"No change for the better. The St. Mungo's healers have no idea how to cure him." With a sigh, he collapsed onto an inviting chair in front of the fireplace.

McGonagall sat down in the other chair and summoned some restorative tea. "You're worn out. Have a cuppa to restore your energy. Now, what can I and Hogwarts do to help?" she asked in a concerned tone.

Behind her desk, in Dumbledore's frame the former headmaster was talking to healer and former headmistress Dilys Derwent. Dilys looked out. "These days, St. Mungo's healers are nothing but a bunch of incompetents if you ask me. In my day…" Dumbledore held up a hand and after further whispered conversation they summoned the six healers from the portrait located above the Grand Staircase.

Feeling once again a student, Harry did as instructed by McGonagall and sipped the soothing tea. Letting out a distressed sigh, he rubbed his eyes. "Apparently Ron was attacked by something called a maighnead draíochta. It was created as a way to protect a home by syphoning off the magic of attackers, but it often backfired and so was forgotten."

One of the healers tapped a finger against his lips. "It attacked those it was designed to defend? Dark magic if you ask me."

"Dark magic!" another healer echoed, aghast. "To lose your magic when all you wanted to do was protect your hearth – how terrible!"

McGonagall ignored the portraits. "So how can I help, Harry?"

Harry, who had been looking at the healers, returned his attention to Minerva. "There is a possible cure but it requires the assistance of the oceanic merpeople. Since I don't know what they'd want in trade for helping us, I'd like to talk to the Black Lake merpeople first for some ideas."

McGonagall looked thoughtful. "If you need something from the merpeople, you're looking for something to go into a potion, one that it designed to counteract Dark Magic. I gather you're working with Severus?" Dumbledore leaned forward in his frame.

"Yes, but it's on the sly. MLE doesn't trust him and forbade me from contacting him, so please don't mention this to anybody."

The Headmistress smirked. "Mention who?" She turned serious. "I am still furious at the MLE for forcing me to cancel our contract with him."

"Hear, hear," agreed Dumbledore. "Severus is the best person to identify a cure. His knowledge of dark magic exceeds even that of myself. Learning first from passion and then from necessity, for survival, it was remarkable how he avoided its clutches."

"Thank you, Albus," McGonagall said dryly. "I know you and the healers are trying to help, but if you can keep down the noise a bit while I talk to Harry I'd appreciate it."

The former headmaster looked abashed and resumed his heated conversation with the healers more quietly.

Harry took another sip of tea. "I'll change that if I get the chance," he said with determination, responding to the headmistress' previous comment.

McGonagall looked appreciative. She turned to Dumbledore's portrait and they exchanged a look before she walked to one of the shelves full of small items. She sorted through them before picking out what looked like a barnacle encrusted conch shell strung from a coral necklace. "You'll need this unless you've picked up some language skills. Unlike Albus, I never learned Mermish. I use this to translate when I need to talk with them. Just put it around your neck and … what's so funny?

Harry could no longer contain his laughter. "There's a muggle story Lily absolutely loved in which a sea-witch traps a mermaid's voice in a necklace."

McGonagall raised her eyebrows. "Do tell. I suspect the author overheard a witch talking with a mermaid and misinterpreted …"

Harry snorted. "Instead of interpreted, you mean."

The Headmistress grinned back. "Back to the matter at hand, do you have any gillyweed? If not, I'm sure our current potions professor has some in her store room."

Harry took the shell and smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Headmistress. Yes, I have gillyweed."

"From the same unnamed person, I presume," McGonagall said with a small smile.

Harry nodded.

"Well, best be on your way, Harry. Of course you're welcome to use the floo to get back when you're done."

Dumbledore spoke up. "Good luck, Harry. While you're gone, Dilys will keep an eye out on what's going on at St. Mungo's. We have some ideas that she'll share with the healers there." Dilys waved in acknowledgement and departed for her portrait at the hospital.

ATDATDATD

Classes were in session and Harry did not see any students as he quickly made his way down to the entrance, but he nodded at a few of the ghosts and portraits.

He paused at the edge of the lake to take off his cloak, shoes, socks, shirt and trousers, quickly transfiguring swimming trunks. Shivering slightly in the cool air, he took out the ball of slimy, grayish-green noodles and the necklace, which he put over his head. Just as he was about to swallow the gillyweed, he heard a voice.

"'arry? Is that ye?"

Harry paused a moment waiting for Hagrid to come closer. Beside him, what Harry thought at first to be a Chihuahua loping alongside became a Bullmastiff. "It is ye now! Up for a swim, are ye?" He enveloped Harry in a bone-crushing hug.

"Can't breathe, Hagrid." Hagrid released Harry and held him out at arm's length. Harry smiled. "Hi, Hagrid! Yes, I need to talk with the merfolk."

"Aye, the 'eadmistress said ye'd be doin' a bit of tradin' now. She asked if I could just keep me eye out for you. Are ye ready, laddie?"

"Thanks, Hagrid! Any tips before I go in?"

Hagrid stroked his beard. "Well, now, the merfolk don't really like no company, but they'll mind ye less if yer straightforward-like, if you know what I mean."

Harry thought back to his experience during the Triwizard Tournament and nodded. "I really just want to ask them what I could bring to the oceanic merpeople for trade."

"Well now, they have their own ways of communicatin' with their salt-water cousins, but it's slow. If yer headin' out that way, maybe you could offer to bring somethin' with you."

Harry nodded. "I feel better with you here. Thanks for waiting." He waded into the cold water and swallowed the gillyweed. This time he knew what to expect. When it felt like an invisible pillow was pressing against his mouth and nose, he waded a few more steps into the lake then flopped into the water. Though the water had felt icy at first, it seemed to warm up. He glanced at the webbing between his fingers and looked back to see the same webbing between his toes. He swam forward until he could no longer see the bottom and then dived into the depths of the lake.

As he continued to swim forward and downward, he passed schools of small silver fish. He finally reached the bottom, covered with a light green weed. He kept his wand tightly clenched in his hand and his head swiveled about, keeping a sharp eye out for the … there was one! Soon the multi-tentacled grindylow was joined by several more of its kind, each with a mouthful of sharp teeth gaping at what they saw was a particularly large meal. As they neared, Harry non-verbally incanted a series of stinging hexes. The grindylows backed off, but as he continued to swim over the lakebed seaweed more appeared. Harry continued to fire off hexes until they finally left him alone, deciding that dinner could be more easily obtained.

Eventually the lake-bottom meadow gave way to expanses of black mud and a vaguely familiar large rock with paintings of merpeople carrying spears and chasing the giant squid on it emerged from into the murky water. Harry slowed down. As he swam past the rock, a cluster of crude stone dwellings covered with algae in geometric patterns appeared.

Suddenly, a merman holding a trident appeared in front of him. The translucent green tentacles on his head were whipping around savagely, and his large yellow eyes seemed to be as stony as the rocks on the necklace he wore. Harry was suddenly uncomfortably aware of the fact that mermen and mermaids, all holding tridents or spears, surrounded him. He shoved his wand down the side of his swimsuit and held up his arms. "I mean no harm."

Through the shell necklace, he heard a babble of sounds. The merman with the trident held up his arm and the murmuring stopped. "Why have you invaded our home, stick holder?"

Harry lowered his arms but kept them away from his body. He bowed slightly. "I did not mean to invade your home. I seek only knowledge."

The merman pulled back his lips in a snarl and whipped his tentacle-like hair and tail forward. "You say you do not mean to invade, yet you swim past our entrance stone without permission."

Harry bowed again. "I apologize for my lack of manners. I plead ignorance. Last time I visited I was not stopped when I came into your village."

A mermaid with gray, gently waving tentacle-like hair approached the merman. She stared at Harry with her large yellow eyes and then spoke. "This is one who visited at the request of the white-bearded speaker some twenty cycles ago. He did indeed enter our village."

The merman flipped his head in acknowledgement and turned his attention fully to Harry. "An invitation to visit once is not the same as an invitation to visit twice. Be gone."

Harry felt with his webbed toes for a stone to grab onto. "I will leave and not come back, but first I would like to offer you an opportunity." He heard the surrounding merpeople make a noise that sounded like bubbles popping, but he didn't know if that was equivalent to laughter or hissing.

The merman's tail and the tentacles on his head flipped backwards simultaneously. "What sort of opportunity can you offer us?" he scoffed.

"I plan to soon visit your cousins in the great salt waters. I am willing to take anything you would like to them."

The merman flared his gills. "Stick holder, we who are the masters of the waters respect the seasons. We do not rush like you of the above-waters. We trade with our cousins, the People of the Sea, at the pace of the messenger swimmers. To rush things is to risk angering the Mother of Waters. You speak heresy. You will leave now and never return."

"But …" Harry stopped as five merpeople approached him with their tridents pointed at his gills. For a moment he thought about taking out his wand, but hurting those around him would accomplish nothing except setting back wizard-merpeople relations. He felt bitter disappointment. He bowed. "I apologize for my intrusion. I meant no disrespect. Please, do not let my bad manners affect your relations with wizards – er, stick holders - at the school."

The merman seemed mollified and his tentacles drooped down. "Fries are allowed to make mistakes. Be gone."

Harry released his grip. He gently flipped his feet. As he rose, the merpeople above him drew back to allow him to ascend. They followed him a few meters, and then, satisfied he was leaving, descended once more into the depths.

As he rose slowly through the murky water, Harry went over his encounter, desperately trying to recall anything he could use when he met with the oceanic merpeople. He was so caught up in his thoughts that it took him a moment to realize someone was softly calling out to him. He paused in his ascent and looked around. He had risen close enough to the surface that he had noticeably greater visibility. He treaded water to keep in place.

A mermaid appeared from below. She was smaller than those that had surrounded him and her scales were bright green. She came to his level and swam in front of him. "Are you really going to visit our cousins in the great salt waters?" she asked as she tilted her head, her tentacles seeming to point towards the lake bed.

Harry nodded. "Soon."

"Why?"

Harry blinked. "No one asked me that in the village."

The tentacles on the mermaid's head became spike-like. "You were rude to enter without being invited, but our mer-chief did not need to be rude in response." The spikes began to gently wave. "I think he knew that too. That's why he gave you an excuse." She paused. "Though maybe you are a fry, even though you are very big for one. Your hair is uncontrolled and it makes it very hard to understand what you mean."

Harry sighed, a string of bubbles emerging from his gills. He could never let Snape find out what the merpeople thought of his hair or he'd never hear the end of it. "But your mer-chief's not sorry enough to let me return to talk to him?"

The mermaid flipped her tail. "No. He will not want to darken his scales." She slowly blinked. "You have not answered my question."

"I would like to obtain a type of magical seaweed so I can save the life of a friend."

The mermaid blinked her large eyes again. "You seek seagryphon grass?"

"If it has magical properties, yes."

The mermaid's tentacles curled tightly around her head. "You will need something unique to trade."

"Do you have any suggestions?"

The mermaid's tentacles softened into rippling waves. "As my mer-chief said, if you merely offer what we provide, you will anger the Mother of Waters and fail in your quest. I don't know what you can offer." She paused a moment and then her tentacles sprang out to encircle her face. "I know – wait here." She swam downwards and out of sight.

Harry waited with anticipation and worried that the gillyweed effects would soon wear off. With a soft whoosh, the mermaid reappeared behind him and tapped his shoulder with her tail. In her arm she carried an old tire.

"My friends and I love to swim through this and we only have a few of them so they must be valuable. I know my cousins would have fun swimming through them too," she said excitedly.

Harry's disappointed sigh came out as another burst of bubbles. He doubted that the adult oceanic merpeople would particularly desire them, especially since the ocean was full of dumped tires and other human trash, though in an isolated Scottish lake he could see where they would be considered a treasure. They'd recognize human refuse when they saw it and would probably chase him away. "Thank you for your help," he said politely, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

The mermaid suddenly looked uncertain, her thick tentacle hair waving in no discernable pattern. "In exchange, can you do my family a favor? Would you be willing to bring something to one of the People of the Sea?"

"Of course, but I do not wish to upset relations between stick holders and merpeople by violating your laws."

The mermaid flipped her tail. "It would violate our laws if you were bringing something from our lake to trade. I wish to have a gift delivered, and expect nothing in return. I have heard my sister has given birth, but the fry is not expected to live more than another moon cycle. I would like to bequeath my nephew a token from his mother's people to take with him to the transparent waters."

Harry nodded. The mermaid reached behind one of her scales and pulled out a necklace of braided seaweed with three snail shells strung on it. "Ask this to be delivered to the fry of the one from the Great Lake with the giant squid. It will help him be recognized when he arrives at the Gate of Warmth."

Harry carefully put the necklace in his pocket. "I will deliver it as soon as I can."

The mermaid blinked her yellow eyes one last time. Her tentacles bent forward as she gave a slight bow. "Good-bye, stick holder fry." She swam once around him and then descended back into the depths.

Harry began to feel short of breath. He quickly forced his way to the surface, reaching it just as the last of his gills became absorbed into his neck. Gasping, he drew in a deep breath of fresh air. He looked around to get his bearings. Fortunately, Hagrid was large enough to be seen even from a distance. He swam to the shore through the now cold water.

Hagrid stopped throwing a branch for his dog to retrieve and held out a blanket as he got out of the water. Even though it had a pungent smell, Harry wrapped it tightly around himself. "Thanks, Hagrid."

"Did ye get what ye needed to, 'arry?" Hagrid asked as Harry took out his wand to dry himself off.

Harry shook his head. "After I inadvertently tried to convince them to commit heresy, I was pretty much tossed out - up? – on my ear – or should that be gill?" He charmed himself clean and dry, brushed his unruly hair as best he could, summoned his clothes and pulled them on.

"Aye, they are a bit touchy now about some things. Well, naught more we can do here. Let's go up to my hut and ye can warm yerself by my fire and we'll have some tea. I'm sure ye'll think of somethin'"

The two began to walk up the path. "I just have no idea what could be so unique that …" Harry paused and smiled for what seemed the first time in days. "Hagrid, you're a genius! Thanks for the offer, but I have to go." He took off running towards the castle. "Thanks again!"

Hagrid looked after Harry bemusedly. He absentmindedly bent over to pat his dog on the head. "Glad I could help ye, lad," he said to the air. "Glad to help."

ATDATDATD

As soon as Harry floo'd back home he apparated back to Snape's house. Nuala smiled when she saw him at the door. "It's nice to see you again, Harry," she said as she welcomed him with a smile. "We've just sat down for lunch. You'd be welcome to join us."

Harry wondered once again at the contrast between Nuala's warmth and Snape's cold demeanor. "Thank you, Nuala."

Snape gave him a glare but did not say anything as Nuala pulled a chair that had been sitting to the side to the table. The two boys were already half done with their plates. He nodded politely to Snape. "Good afternoon, sir."

Stephen hurriedly swallowed his stew as Harry sat down. "Mr. Potter, did you see the game this weekend between …"

"Stephen, now leave our guest alone," Nuala gently interrupted. "Let him at least get a few bites in before you disturb him with your blather."

Harry smiled. "It's not a problem, Nuala. Remember, I've three quidditch-obsessed children of my own."

After a pointed look from Nuala, Snape snorted as he non-verbally waved the salt and pepper shakers to Harry. "Stephen, as soon as you're done, please take Patrick to your room to play. Mind you don't wake the baby, or you'll be the one changing her this afternoon."

"Aw, Da, can't I help with the potion you're brewing for Mr. Potter?"

Severus shook his head. "Not this one. Remember how I once told you that some potions can hurt developing magical cores if something goes wrong? This is one of them. I'll not have you near the lab for the next day."

Rather than looking wary, Stephen looked intrigued. "Would the damage be caused by fumes or by contact? What's the maximum level of exposure before seeing any impact? If there's only a small bit of exposure, will the magical core recover? What's …"

Nuala rapped him on the back of his head. "I don't like talk of dangerous potions at the dinner table. Change the topic and finish up now."

Harry choked back a laugh at the identical expressions of dismay on the faces of father and son at that. Patrick, meanwhile, had finished his bowl. "All done! Can I go play now?" he announced.

Severus turned his attention to the younger boy. "It's may I go play, and the answer is yes, after you wash your hands. Quietly, though."

As Patrick slipped from the table, Severus turned to Harry. "I assume you were successful or you wouldn't have returned so quickly."

Smiling, Harry summoned a roll and absentmindedly directed a knife to butter it. "Yes. Well, not totally, but at least I've an idea of what I can give the oceanic merpeople. Has Hermione returned yet? Remember …"

"You are really going to see merpeople?" Stephen interrupted. "How do you talk with them? Where…"

"Stephen!" Nuala turned to Harry. "I apologize for the boyo's manners." She turned back to her son. "Put your bowl and silverware by the sink and be gone with you now."

"Yes, ma'am." Stephen carefully picked up his bowl and walked slowly to the sink. Severus shook his head at his son's too obvious attempt to eavesdrop. "Perhaps we should talk in the study, Potter."

"Give the lad a chance to finish his stew, love," Nuala said as she stood up to put her own dishes on the counter.

To Harry's surprise, Severus merely nodded and finished his meal.

 _And the search begins … If you are interested in such things, the meteorite fragment Snape is using comes from one of a group of 9 meteorite craters in the village of Kaali on the Estonian island of Saaremaa. Every review is appreciated!_


	7. From the North

_While I've read some fan fiction stories I'd swear were written by J.K. Rowling, I wouldn't presume to be in that category._

As Hermione walked out the back door after getting the portkey to take her from Snape's house to Oslo, she was glad that apparition was not an option due to the distance. Her mind was so awhirl with thoughts she knew she would splinch herself if she tried anything other than a local apparition. As she mentally counted down, she took several deep breaths to calm herself down.

She felt the familiar feel of a hook just behind her navel and was jerked forward. The swirling colors and howling wind continued far longer than it normally did as she was pulled forward as if by a magnet embedded in the bicycle chain. When the colors began to take form she began to step forward into the air, landing gracefully.

She found herself in a long alleyway sloping down toward a harbor. She could smell the salt in the air and heard the cries from flocks of nearby seagulls. When she walked out of the shadows into the light, she found herself on a bustling street by the coast surrounded by colorful shops. She leaned against a wall to get her bearings.

The portkey had deposited her in the middle of a wizarding area. She shivered slightly in the cool air. Noticing that those walking by wore heavier cloaks than she was used to seeing in London, she drew out a magazine she had stuffed into her purse, tore out one page, and transfigured the rest into a long wool garment. When she pulled it on she noticed a hole where a pocket should have been, but she shrugged and transfigured the torn out page into a hat with built in earmuffs.

Now that she was comfortable she looked around. The neighborhood reminded her of Diagon Alley. To her right, hoots, meows, barks, and snorts marked a store selling familiars. On the left, only magic kept up a stack of caldrons. Across the street, she could occasionally see, through a crowd of excited children, a snitch flying in a window. Scattered mounds of snow could be seen next to walls.

Hermione took out her notes. As she was studying them, an old woman lined with wrinkles and using a cane approached. A large bulbous nose dominated her face and her long, scraggly gray hair was tucked behind pointed ears. "Kan jeg hjelpe deg?"

Hermione looked at her. "I'm sorry, I don't speak Norwegian." She got out her wand to incant a translation charm when the old woman held out her hand.

"No problem, dear. I speak English – most here do. Can I help you find someplace?"

Hermione smiled gratefully. She was optimistic that she'd be back at St. Mungo's before the hour was up. "Would you happen to know where I can find the shop called 'Norske Suvenirer'?"

The woman smiled, displaying pointed teeth. "Norske Suvenirer?" she repeated, but pronouncing it slightly differently. "You're very close." She motioned passed the familiar shop. "Go down to the next street and then turn right. You'll see it on the left."

"Thank you." Hermione tucked away her note and began walking down the street, making her way through the throngs of people. She noticed many people had the same pointed ears and that the cloaks they wore were brightly colored with contrasting strips on the wrists and the bottom hems. Almost everyone wore long, pointed hats which were folded back and hung down almost to the ground. Most wore flashy boots that could be seen with each step.

Hermione noticed a bookshop which had some titles in English in the front window but, feeling the weight of her mission, for perhaps the first time in her life she did not feel the need to browse. She passed by another store in which wooden chairs could be seen assembling themselves. Delicious odors wafted out of a bakery in front of which a ladle was stirring in a large pot.

Hermione could see her destination across the street and down two stores as she approached the intersection. Her heart sped up.

A small chime rang as she walked in. Not seeing anyone, Hermione let out a questioning "Hello?"

A wizened woman who could have been the sister of the one who had given her directions stood up from where she had apparently been retrieving a pile of colorful sweaters. "American?" she asked as her wand directed the sweaters to a shelf behind Hermione.

"No, British," Hermione replied.

"Welcome to my store. Are you looking for anything in particular?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, please. I'm looking for amulet."

The woman thought a moment before smiling. "Ah, an amulet," she repeated, with a soft 'a' and the accent on the last syllable. "I have many in the case over here."

Hermione followed her over. Her heart began to sink as she scanned through the variety of charms but saw nothing that looked like a Thor's hammer such as she had seen in the books she had used for research. "These are nice but I was actually looking for a specific design, one in the shape of a hammer."

The woman stopped smiling. "I do not have such a thing."

"Perhaps in back? I'm working on a potion and …"

"Everything I have is on display. I cannot help you." The woman folded her arms.

Hermione looked once again at the amulets. "I'm sorry; I don't see what I'd like here. Are you sure …? Perhaps you know of a nearby shop which carries them?"

The woman glared at her. "I am sure. I am closing now. Thank you for coming by."

Hermione found herself shooed outside before she realized she had been ejected. Bewildered, her sense of optimism vanished. She wondered why the storekeeper's attitude had changed so abruptly and why she had been shoved out the door. Granted she had been persistent in asking, but wouldn't the shop want her business? Perhaps this mission wouldn't be as easy as she had hoped. She finally shrugged, realizing that the answer wouldn't come as she was standing there and that she was wasting valuable time. As she recalled, the second store was on the same street. She took out her notes to confirm the address and started down the sidewalk.

Four blocks down, Hermione found Trollmannens Butikken between a wand shop and an herb store. She walked into the cramped interior and looked around. A wizened man who reminded her slightly of Professor Flitwick smiled. "Velkommen."

Hermione smiled back. "Hello. I hope you'll be able to help me find something."

"Of course. I carry many things, and can special order anything I don't have on hand. What are you looking for?" he asked jovially.

Hermione unconsciously twisted her hands together. "I've been told that an amulet in the shape of Thor's hammer could have some very strong magical properties when incorporated into a potion and …"

The man's warm smile faded when she mentioned Thor's hammer and he held up a hand. "Stop. Get out."

Hermione's fear for Ron's life began to surge. "Wait – please." As her eyes began to moisten she took a deep breath. "My husband is dying and the amulet will help save his life. At least tell me why you won't even consider helping me. The other place I asked shoved me out the door before I knew what had happened. Nothing I read said that talking about such things was taboo."

The man cocked his head. "The other place?"

Hermione nodded. "Norske Suvenirer."

The man made a tssking sound. "Everyone should know not to go to Ingefrid for help. She is set in her ways and has inferior goods. She sells cheap, yes, but her charms wear off quickly."

Hermione gave a wavering smile. "Can you help me, then?"

The man examined her closely and came to a decision. He waved his wand to lock the door, turning a sign in the window around, and then transfigured two serving dishes into colorful chairs. He motioned her to sit down.

"I believe you. You do not look like a government inspector. Even if you were, I would tell you the same thing. It is not possible to get what you seek."

"But why not?"

"True Mjolnir, which is the proper name for the item you asked about, depict a most fearsome weapon. You in England not too long ago experienced the power of a dark wizard. Here, the memory of the era of dark wizards is still taught in the school as a lesson. During that time, Mjolnir were used to control ordinary witches and wizards. At the end of that terrible era, the government gathered up all the Mjolnir it could find. Most were destroyed outright. A few had most of their powers stripped from them and are on display at the historical museum in Roskilde. While non-magic ones are common souvenirs for muggles, possessing a charmed Mjolnir is against the law throughout Scandinavia." He looked at her. "Ingefrid probably thought you were trying to trap her."

Hermione felt a sense of dread. The others would be able to get what they had promised; only she would fail. It would be her fault Ron …

No, she wouldn't give up that easily. The man must be mistaken. She had the names of two other stores in different countries. She would find one there.

Undaunted, she stood up. "Thank you. I understand now. I must be on my way. Is there place where I may buy a portkey nearby?"

The man looked at her strangely but did not ask any questions. He stood up as well and transfigured the chairs back into serving dishes. "Go left out the door to the end of the block and then turn left again for two blocks." As he opened the door the sign flipped around. "Good luck."

At least one thing went right today, Hermione thought to herself as she placed her finger on the public portkey to Stockholm. She'd only had to wait ten minutes. She held her breath as the colors swirled around her.

When the air cleared, she was in a large room that was bustling with people. Floating arrows directed people which way to go in Swedish, English, French, and German. She found the one that pointed to Market Square and let herself be caught up in the flow of people heading out.

Blinking in the sunlight, she found herself on one side of a large plaza surrounded by shops. She took out her notes to verify the name of the store she was looking for and looked around. She didn't have to look far. Magi Varuhus was four shops down. Like its neighbors, it was three stories tall and narrow. Constructed of timber, its bright blue color gleamed with a fresh coat of paint. In the window could be seen vibrant red wooden horses of a variety of sizes prancing around.

The store was obviously popular. The aisles were crowded with witches and wizards wearing everything from woolen cloaks with pointed hats to young people in jeans and leather jackets. Brooms and balls soared over her head. A cacophony of languages could be heard. Hermione followed the signs to the jewelry department.

To her disappointment, she did not see anything looking like a Mjolnir. As she was examining the case, a blond woman in a white blouse, blue vest, and yellow apron and wearing a yellow pointed hat came over. "I see you like charms. Are you looking for anything in particular?"

Hermione smiled. She'd been thinking about a better way to find what she wanted without bringing too much attention as to what she was seeking. "Yes. I'm fascinated by Viking history. Would you have anything to represent them?"

The woman nodded eagerly. "Of course! We're very proud of our heritage here." Hermione's heart began to beat faster. The woman used her wand to put a tray on the counter. "Look here – everything you could possible want."

Hermione looked over the tray and her heart sank. On it were rune charms, miniature ships, swords, masks, birds of prey and even a dragon head, but not what she was looking for. She sighed.

The woman shrugged. "If you give me a design I can have one made just for you. It wouldn't take very long, and two spells can be infused in it for free."

Hermione thought for a moment. "I'm really interested in Norse mythology and remember seeing something I think was called a Mjolnir in a museum…"

The woman laughed. "You tease me now! Or perhaps being a foreigner you do not know such a thing imbued with magic is forbidden?"

Hermione tried to look surprised. "Is it? Let me take a closer look at what you have." After a short pause, she made herself smile and pointed to a charm at random to divert attention. "Oh, look at this one. Don't you think it's cute? My daughter would love it. I'll take it."

The woman looked at her strangely and when Hermione looked closer at the amulet she realized why – it was the plainest one there, with what looked like squares of different sizes within a circle. However, the women shrugged and began to happily chat about the charm as it was wrapped in colorful paper and flown into a small shopping bag. Hermione tried to keep the smile on her face until she turned around.

Outside the shop, she wearily leaned against the wall. I have to be successful, she told herself to fend off growing discouragement. I won't fail, I will succeed, she kept repeating in her mind. I still have the name of a shop in Copenhagen. I'll find what I need there. She returned to the transportation center with a renewed sense of determination and paid the listed galleons for the next portkey, which was due to leave in an hour. Realizing she had not eaten since the night before and that she had used a lot of magic since then, she forced herself to gobble down a quick lunch at a smorgasbord buffet while she waited.

By the time she arrived in Denmark, the sun was low in the sky, hidden by a thin layer of clouds. She looked at her notes which were depressingly full of cross-outs. She asked at the information center for the directions to Smykker til Alle. Fortunately it was only a few blocks away.

In the window of the store, necklaces, bracelets, and rings rotated freely, catching light from candles floating to the sides. Hermione walked inside and was greeted by a young wizard in a traditional red and black cloak. His long brown hair was tied back in a neat queue revealing a single diamond earing. On his fingers were rings with rubies and emeralds. His smile was radiant. Hermione thought for one moment that her parents, being dentists, would love to be able put him on their Facebook page as an example of a successfully completed orthodontic case.

"Hello. I hope you can help me."

"It would give me great satisfaction to help such a beautiful woman. Please, just tell me what you desire and I will go to the ends of the earth to bring joy to your life."

Hermione smiled. "I'm actually just looking for a simple charm."

The man looked puzzled. "While I wish to serve you, I cannot help with spells and charms. My cousin, though, runs such a business and is only a block away…"

"I'm sorry, I mean an amulet."

The man laughed. "You must forgive my small joke. Of course I knew what you meant. My father warns me that I am too quick to show off my knowledge of other languages. Is there any design in particular you desire?" He swirled his wand; two trays came over and hovered in front of Hermione. The charms on the trays took turns to rise, turn over, and flop back down. "While we concentrate on bigger pieces, we do have some small trinkets for sale, and for you I would sell them at a loss."

Hermione quickly scanned the trays. She shook her head. "These are beautiful, but none reach out to me." She hesitated. "I saw in a muggle souvenir shop an interesting charm. It was maybe three centimeters high in the shape of a ship anchor and had a face in the middle. I remember thinking how perfect it would be if it were not so lifeless."

The man frowned. "I hate to disappoint such a lovely witch but we carry no such item. I'm sure you are not one to desire an item reputed to be so evil." He shook his head and smiled. "Perhaps I can interest you in something else?" Another tray, this one with rings, floated over.

"I hadn't realized it would be considered dark," Hermione quickly interjected. "You have many beautiful things here. I don't see anything today, but will be back again, I'm sure." She turned and left the store.

She found a bench under a tree and sat down. The events of the day caught up with her and the despair was overwhelming. I shouldn't even be here, she thought. I'm not accomplishing anything. My husband is dying and I'm not at his side to comfort him, Rose, or Hugo… She shook herself and took a deep breath. I'll have time for self-pity later. I have to decide what to do next. Perhaps if I could actually see one … what was the name of the town that had some on display – Voskill? No, Roskilde. She pulled out a map. It was within apparition distance. She cast a tempus – even though it was getting towards dusk the museum should be open for another hour. She closed her eyes to collect herself and with a loud pop disappeared.

When she later thought back about what she had done, she realized she was lucky not to have splinched herself or apparated into a crowd of muggles. For the first time since arriving in Oslo she found herself outside of the magical world. She had landed in a small yard outside a stone building. A small sign over the door read "Historiske Museum af Magi" which she could translate easily. Passing through muggle-repelling wards, she walked inside.

After paying a few galleons for admission, she picked up a guide and quickly made her way to the exhibit on Viking artifacts. She finally saw what she had sought. She could feel a bit of malevolence emanating from the handful of Thor's hammer amulets she saw on display. She shut her eyes and concentrated. They were protected with extremely powerful wards of a type she was unfamiliar with.

Hermione left the museum and made her way into town. She didn't watch where she was going and soon found herself in a maze of streets. With a sinking heart, she imagined her husband dying because of her inability to obtain one stupid amulet. She thought about all they had been through together: the innocent joys of Hogwarts, the horrible year on the run, the happy times since raising two wonderful children… She thought back to the museum. The wards were complex, yes, but she'd broken into Gringotts which was said to be impossible. Well, not alone, she acknowledged to herself. But Harry would help, and Ginny could take Ron's place …

She sighed. Yes, Harry and Ginny would help, but if they got caught and ended up in Azkaban then five children would be left orphaned. No, she couldn't do that to any of them. She would have to break in by herself. She'd have to be extremely careful. But it wouldn't matter if they tracked her down later; she just needed to be able to stay free for the two or three days it would take Snape to make the potion and administer it to Ron. After that, it wouldn't matter. She didn't even need to be free that long; she only had to evade arrest until she could get the amulet to Professor Snape. But … what if the potion wasn't effective and she was locked away? Harry and Ginny would take her kids, she knew that, but what would it be like for them at school with their mother in prison? Children can be cruel and spiteful and ...

Drained, she could no longer go on. She stopped and leaned against a nearby wall and shut her eyes. When she opened them again she saw that she had stopped outside a muggle pawn shop. In the window amidst a number of knick-knacks were a glass rose and the book "Les Miserables" labeled "early English edition." Hermione shook her head and wondered why fate had brought her here. At least she could get something for the children to remember her by. She shook her head and went inside.

"Velkommen!" called out a middle-aged woman with red hair and bright blue eyes who was dusting one of the shelves.

"Hello!" Hermione called back. "I was interested in a couple of things you have in the window – the glass rose and the book by Victor Hugo."

The woman put the cleaning rag down on the counter and went to the window to pull them out. "I'm glad you're interested in the book. Most turn down their noses at it when they discover it's not a first edition."

Hermione picked it up. It was in good condition. She skimmed through it and saw someone had written some insightful comments in it. She put it down and pick up the rose. Dainty red petals topped a long light-green stem with two leaves. She nodded.

The woman smiled. "Easiest sale I've had all day." She walked over to the cash register. Hermione started to follow and then stopped. She had felt a magical force. She looked down and her heart stopped. On the shelf below were four Mjolnir amulets. "May I see these?" she asked with a glimmer of hope.

The woman put down the rose and book and came back. "We've had those for ages." She pulled them out. "Interesting looking aren't they? They're called Thor's hammers, or Mjolnirs. You've heard of Thor, surely?"

Hermione nodded distractedly. She ran her hands over the four. The second one was definitely infused with magic. She started to pick it up, but the dark magic within it repelled her. The woman behind the counter obviously couldn't feel it; maybe it was undetectable to muggles. The woman turned it over examining it and held it out. "Hmmph, just a cheap tin replica. It's a bit damaged on the reverse and its design is primitive as if made by an unskilled artist. Why don't you take a closer look at the others – they're much nicer."

Hermione was confused for a moment. To her, the artistic amulet appeared in pristine shape. Perhaps it had some sort of charm that prevented muggles for seeing it as it truly was. She looked up. "I don't think so. This one appeals to me for some reason."

The shopkeeper shrugged. "Oh, well, I tell you what. Since you're such a good customer I can sell it to you at a really good price."

Hermione had to choke back a laugh. "I'll take it." After so much bad news and today's seemingly hopeless quest, a small ray of optimism swelled in her heart.

 _All translations are courtesy of Google Translate. If you speak Norwegian, Swedish, or Danish and notice something wrong, please contact me so I can make the correction. Regardless of what language you speak, your comments are welcome!_


	8. From the West

_While I've read some fan fiction stories I'd swear were written by J.K. Rowling, I wouldn't presume to be in that category._

Hermione stumbled a bit as the portkey deposited her back in Snape's backyard. Twilight had come. She closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them in a panic, calming down instantly when she felt the small package in her pocket. Snape was waiting for her on the steps.

Hermione smiled. "Success!" Her smile faltered. "Any news?"

Snape motioned her in and held out his hand for the package. "Mr. Potter got back about noon. He needed to talk with you before he left again. He's visiting St. Mungo's now. I signaled him as soon as I felt you approach the wards." They had just sat down in the study when Nuala, holding Fianna, and Harry came to the door. Harry entered and Nuala shut the door behind him.

"I just spent the afternoon at the hospital. Ron's very weak but at least his rate of decline has slowed." Sitting down, he looked at the package Snape was unfolding. "Is that it?"

Snape took out his wand and ran several spells over it. "It will indeed work in the potion." He carefully levitated it and headed for the door. "I'll be in my lab."

"Hermione, before you go, I need your help before I head west."

"Of course, Harry. Will it take long? I didn't plan to be gone all day. Rose and Hugo must be frantic, and the others wondering what's going on."

"I'm not sure how long it will take. Remember those blue flames that you used to conjure for us?"

Hermione was bemused. "Of course. I used them as nightlights for the kids."

"Do you think you could put them into a fully sealed glass ball?"

Hermione nodded. "That's how I made them for the kids' rooms. How long would you need for them to last?"

"I hadn't thought about that. Umm, maybe a month?"

"I'll think about what I can do while I'm at St. Mungo's. Why do you need them?"

"I'd hoped to be able to act as a middleman between the Hogwarts and oceanic merpeople and get the magical seaweed in payment, but that violates their culture so they refused to even consider it. Instead, I'll have to find something that the oceanic merpeople would like that they can't get from their cousins in the Black Lake. The trouble is that I don't know what they like. I figure, though, that living under water they'll have never seen flames. I'm hoping I can trade it to them as a novelty."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "I'll have to make sure there's some way of passing oxygen through the glass, but if I do that I should be able to ensure the flames will last more than a month. So I need to transfigure something that allows oxygen in … How many do you want?"

Harry sighed. "I have no idea. A dozen?"

Hermione stood up. "I'll just check in at the hospital and then get right to it." She paused and put her hand on his shoulder. "Harry? I've known you forever. No matter what happens, this is not your fault."

Harry placed his own hand on top of hers. "Thanks, Hermione. Give the family my best, yeah? I'll be there as soon as I can get the seaweed and hardened lava." He stood up and followed her to the door. Giving her a hug, he murmured, "I'm confident that Professor Snape's potion will work and Ron will fully recover."

ATDATDATD

After Hermione left, Harry asked Nuala if Snape was still in his lab. Nuala shook her head. "He's …" She halted and smiled at a point behind Harry. "Severus! The boyo was just asking about you."

Harry spun around and found Snape smirking at him from just a meter away. "What did you need me for, Mr. Potter?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Isn't it time you called me Harry?"

"Perhaps, but that didn't answer my question."

Harry tried to inconspicuously indicate Nuala, but he must have been more obvious than he thought for Snape rolled his eyes before gesturing towards the study. Once the door was closed, he turned to Snape. "Do you know anything about the oceanic merpeople or do you have any books on them?"

Snape snorted. "You were afraid to ask this in front of my wife? Did you think she'd be afraid that if I knew about mermaids I'd run off to be with one?"

"No! I just don't know how much she knows about our world."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "As far as I know, we all live on the same world."

Harry sighed. "Yes,sir. So, the oceanic merpeople?"

"That's a pretty broad category, Potter. Can you be more specific?"

"It occurred to me that I don't know if they're diurnal or nocturnal, or if they live so deep that it makes no difference. I don't want to approach them when they're sleeping and get started off on the wrong foot. I have to wait for Hermione in any case – she's going to try to make some glass balls of fire for me to trade with them."

Snape looked thoughtful. "Such orbs may in fact be something they would like to have. As to their sleeping patterns, they have occasionally been seen by muggle seafarers during the day, so I would assume as least some of them are diurnal. Why didn't she give them to you before she left?"

"Well, first she has to figure out how to do it."

Snape rolled his eyes again. "Surely you've heard the expression about reinventing the cauldron? Don't you think that some potions are extremely heat sensitive and that such a device would have been developed a long time ago to give a potion master light but no heat?"

Harry looked stunned. Snape just shook his head. "I'll notify Mrs. Granger-Weasley that she can focus on her family. How many light balls do you need, and what size?"

ATDATDATD

Harry was almost blown over by the wind which greeting him on the western coast of the isle of Flores in the Azores. He stumbled backwards before catching himself. He shrugged. The winds were blowing to the southwest, so he would fly in that direction. At least that way he would get to where he was going more quickly - wherever that might be, he thought ruthfully to himself. If nothing else, by flying westward he could get in a bit more flying time before it got too dark to see. He had no idea where he would find the oceanic merpeople. He hoped it would not be a long, tedious flight; when playing quidditch, he at least had his adrenaline to keep him alert.

By the time darkness had begun to set in several hours later, Harry had almost lost hope. He had known intellectually the dismal odds of finding anything in the vast ocean, but flying for hour after endless hour over the unchanging sea began to make his search seem dauntless. A movement out of the corner of his eye caused him to divert to the north.

He let out a dejected sigh when he realized that what he had seen was a pod of dolphins. He followed them for a minute and was about to turn away when his heart raced. What had just breeched the water to his left was certainly not a dolphin. With renewed excitement, he watched the area carefully, and was rewarded for his patience when he saw another figure breech the waves. He sucked in his breath. Although the size of Grawp, it was definitely a merman.

He'd spent the previous tedious hours carefully figuring out the timing of what he was about to do next. He swallowed the gillyweed he had stowed in his pocket and took out his wand. When he began to feel the changes, he flew down to skim the tops of the waves, cast a protective spell around his broom which, as he had thought, unfortunately cause it to lose it aerodynamics, cast another spell to ensure the broom would not slip through his grasp, and dove into the water.

Though he was expecting it, the coldness of the Atlantic water still shocked Harry. Only the binding spell was keeping his broom at hand. He quickly cast another spell to allow him to strap his broom to his back so his now webbed hands would be free.

He finally was able to look around. He couldn't see more than a few meters due to the heavy concentration of seaweed. He realized, though, that he could hear murmurings off to his right and began to swim in that direction.

While he was making slow progress as he struggled through the mass of seaweed, the murmurings got more distinct. He suddenly came to a clear spot and found himself faced with merpeople armed with tridents who looked distinctly angry.

Harry hoped the shell translator would still work even if these merpeople spoke a different dialect from those in Black Lake. He held out his hands and treaded water. Now that he was here suddenly all the brilliant conversational openings he had thought up had disappeared. He had a sudden urge to say "I come in peace," and recognized that he felt slightly hysterical. He breathed deeply through his gills and settled on, "Greetings."

A mermaid the size of troll bared her teeth. The tentacles on her hair pointed directly at Harry. She approached Harry with her trident pointed directly at his chest. Harry backed up, but felt something jab his back. He looked up, thinking he'd better try to find another clan, but another mermaid was holding herself upside down in the water, her own trident pointed at Harry's head.

An even larger, muscular merman swam menacingly in front of him and sneered. "Who do you think you are to come like a shark into our community, destroying homes like a marlin in search of mackerel?"

"I come hoping to make an exchange of goods," Harry replied nervously. "I did not know I was destroying anything." His heart beat quickly.

"Look behind you!" the closest mermaid irately demanded.

As Harry carefully turned, very conscious of how close the prongs of the tridents were to him. As his did so he realized that the seaweed around the clearing had been braided into cave-like shapes whose openings were filled with what seemed to be young merpeople though most were at least as big as Harry. When he completed his turn he realized that what he had thought was a random forest of seaweed was in fact a home – or had been before he had blundered through it. The ragged edges of the homes on either side of the ruined dwelling seemed to swish in disgust at him in the slight current.

"I'm sorry!" Harry exclaimed in horror. "I didn't mean … I didn't realize … I'd only …" he stumbled to a halt. He felt a poke in his back and turned around again to face the open area. He had to force down another hysteric laugh as he thought of an old print of deranged villagers wielding pitchforks surrounding a witch, only this time the torches were missing.

Torches … He slowly reached into his moleskin pouch and took out one of the light orbs, restoring it to its original size. The blue flame flickered inside. "I was hoping to be able to trade this humble item. I would like to gift it to you as a token of my regret for my egregious error." He carefully held out his hand with the orb held in his webbed hand.

The mermaid glared at him, each tentacle-like hair on her head straight out. "If you weren't a fry …" Suddenly she reached forward and slapped him on the cheek. The blow was strong enough to force his entire body to the side. She yanked the orb from his hand and swam away in a huff, her tail swishing violently.

As she disappeared into the gloom, the merman in front slowly pointed his trident down and the others followed his example. To Harry's surprise, he chuckled. "You are lucky, visitor, that she is so easily satisfied." He slowly swam around Harry. "I do not recognize your form, but you speak our language. What are you?"

"I come from afar, from the large island to the northeast," Harry replied. "I changed my shape so that I might visit you." Trying to break the ice, he reached into his pouch for the braided seaweed and snail shell necklace given to him by the young mermaid at Hogwarts. "This was given to me in the hopes that I might deliver it to the mermaid from the Great Lake with the Giant Squid so that her sick fry has something from her mother's family before he journeys to the transparent waters."

A small mermaid with tightly kinked tentacles approached. When she was next to him Harry realized that she was his size but just seemed small in comparison to most around her. She held out her hand and Harry carefully looped the necklace around it.

As the mermaid examined it, her tentacles slowly uncoiled. She nodded and closed her hand over it. She turned to the merman who seemed to be the mer-chief and pointed her head at Harry. "I know this kind. This one is similar to those from the logs that float above, but uses a stick to transform things. They are mostly friendly." At this, the merpeople muttered among themselves.

The mer-chief's tentacles waved gently. "I know of such creatures but had never met one before." He turned to Harry. "If you can transform things, can you fix the house you destroyed?"

"May I first see a dwelling close up so that I know what it should look like?"

A merman pointed him to the dwelling near the one with the gaping hole and the circle surrounding him left a gap so he could swim there. He looked in the opening and saw walls, floor, ceiling and several benches and mats made of tightly woven seaweed. He thought about a braiding charm he learned when Lily was young. If I modify it slightly, he thought … "What may I use to repair the damage I caused?"

Two merpeople looked at each other in silent conversation. One then swam off, dragging several large bundles of seaweed behind her when she returned a minute later.

Harry took out his wand and concentrated. Slowly the hole mended itself and new furnishings were created.

When he was done, the merpeople swam by and peered in. "Clumsy and ugly, but adequate until it can be redone properly," concluded the mer-chief. "Now, you said you had something to trade? We do not want anything from our cousins to come by you."

"I understand." Harry reached into his moleskin pouch again and took out another orb. He restored it to its original size and the flame inside lit up his hand. "I have eleven of these left, all made by stick holders and none of which come from the Great Lake with the Giant Squid."

The mer-chief took the orb and examined it carefully. He said something Harry couldn't hear to a merman by his side, who then took off.

"We may be able to trade. Do you have anything in mind that you want in exchange?"

Harry nodded. "I am looking for a seaweed with magical properties. I believe you call it seagryphon grass, but I will know for sure when I see it."

The mer-chief's tentacles waved to one side. "How much?"

"As much as I can hold in two hands."

The mer-chief whispered something to a mermaid, who swam downwards. She returned shortly with a large bundle clutched in her webbed hands. Harry examined it carefully. He could feel the magic emanating from it when he touched it. "Yes, this is what I seek, and the amount is perfect! Please, will you accept my trade?"

The mer-chief's tentacles gently waved. "You are not a trader or you would know not to appear so eager. What would you use the seagryphon grass for?"

"A friend of mine is dying. The seagryphon grass may help cure him."

The chief looked around. "Agree ye, yea or nay?"

To Harry's relief, most of the merpeople nodded.

The chief turned back to Harry. "It is agreed. Eleven such orbs for this bundle of seagryphon grass."

Harry smiled as he pulled out the rest of the flame orbs and restored them to their original sizes. He carefully tied the pouch of seagryphon grass to his waist.

The merman who had swum off at the mer-chief's request when the trading began returned. In his hand he held a large bundle of glowing seaweed. Harry was shocked when the mer-chief took a flame orb, held his hand over it and dowsed the flame. "But don't you like the light?" he asked, confused.

The mer-chief didn't look up, but instead held his hand over the glowing seaweed. The glow was suddenly moved into the orb, giving off a red light rather than the previous blue light. His tentacles coiled and uncoiled several times and he smiled. "This will do nicely. The seaweed orbs cut much of the light, but the new ones will let us use our own light more brightly."

Harry sighed. Well, at least he had the required seagryphon grass. He had in fact brought something the oceanic merpeople wanted, but it was for the box and not the gift inside. It was just like the time when two year old Albus was more fascinated with the packaging than his actual birthday present that Harry had spent hours finding. He'd better stick to being an auror.

 _Please review!_


	9. From the East

_While I've read some fan fiction stories I'd swear were written by J.K. Rowling, I wouldn't presume to be in that category._

Ginny spent a long day at St. Mungo's desperately trying to comfort her family without divulging the fact that Professor Snape was working on a possible cure. After Harry joined her in the afternoon, they barely left each other's side. Carefully watching his words even though he was whispering, he let her know that he was waiting to talk to Hermione before he left again. He grew more and more anxious as the afternoon wore on, wondering why it was taking her so long. Finally the galleon the potions master had given him heated up, indicating Hermione's return. Soon after he left, Hermione returned to the intensive care waiting area looking exhausted. Depressingly, a quick glance at the window showed no improvement in Ron's condition. She gave Ginny a small nod. They didn't get a chance to talk before Hermione was enveloped in family hugs.

Long after darkness fell, Harry returned.

"How'd it go?" whispered Hermione as Ginny gave her husband a hug.

Harry cast a muffliato. "Just left from dropping the seaweed off," he whispered despite the protective spell. "The base is still being prepared. The lava rock can't be added until Thursday morning, so I'm going into the office tomorrow morning to see what I can find out and then will head south tomorrow afternoon. I'll stop by your office, too, Hermione; I know everyone will be anxious to know how you're doing."

Hermione nodded gratefully. "Thank them for their concern. Did the Professor say anything? When I dropped off the amulet before returning here he said he was still refining his calculations."

"I didn't get a chance to talk with him – he was in his lab mixing and stirring things in some bubbling cauldrons and I didn't want to disturb him. He did nod when I put the seaweed on the table."

Hermione took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "The healers here seem to have given up. They say it's up to Ron now."

Laying one comforting hand on her shoulder, Harry gently brushed the hair away from her face with his other hand. He looked around to make sure no one was paying them attention. Lowering his voice even further so that the other two had to strain to hear him, he whispered, "It's OK, Hermione, it's not over yet. We have Professor Snape in our corner." Ginny nodded in support.

Long hours had passed when Ginny shook herself awake on the padded chair. Percy and Audrey were arm-in-arm at the window but the others were drowsing on various chairs and sofas. She quietly approached her brother.

"He's not going to make it, is he?" asked Percy in a whisper without taking his eyes from Ron. "The healers don't say anything, but I see them shaking their heads. I overheard one talking about how he has only a few days left at the most when they didn't realize I was listening."

Ginny rested her head on his shoulder. "He'll make it," she said fiercely. "He won't leave us." She glared at her brother through the window as if daring him to prove her right. "Perce, I need some air. I'll be back in the morning, yeah?"

Percy nodded absentmindedly, returning to his vigil. Ginny made her way out of the hospital and found a deserted location from which to leave.

Even though she was expecting a long transit via portkey, Ginny's stomach felt queasy as the swirl of colors began to resolve into a recognizable landscape. She fell to one knee before catching her breath and standing up.

"Ginny!" called a woman with long, shiny black hair and a friendly smile. "I'm so glad you contacted me!"

Ginny reached forward to embrace her friend. "Liu-Yang! How have you been? How's your son?"

The woman gave a proud smile. "Ten years old and at the top of his class. He's on the school's flying team and loves it, of course." She took Ginny's arm and began to walk towards a small house at the edge of a park. "And how are your three?"  
"All three are at Hogwarts now – can you believe it? James wants to play professional quidditch; don't all boys at that age? Albus has just discovered girls. Lily is blossoming at school; I was afraid she'd be in her brothers' shadows, but she is making her own path." They reached the iron gate at the front of the house which opened for them.

Lui-Yang smiled. "Just like her mother she will not let older brothers decide her life. Your husband too is well?"  
Ginny nodded, and then her smile fell. "But my brother Ron got into a serious accident at work."

Lui-Yang turned thoughtful. "Yet out of the blue you decide to come visit me to look for dragon mementos." She opened the door to the house and motioned Ginny to sit down at the table. "Somehow I don't think the two are unrelated. Have you eaten?" At Ginny's polite nod, she summoned a pot of aromatic ginger root tea, two cups, and plates of savory rice balls, laying everything on the table before sitting down.

Ginny took a sip of tea before leaning back. "Ron was attacked by dark magic," she said with a hitch in her voice. "His magical core is falling apart. One person found a possible cure, but it requires dragon eggshell fragments."

Lui-Yang looked at her sharply. "You have dragons in Briton. You are not telling me something."

"The potion specifically needs the eggshells to come from a Chinese dragon. The person creating the potion thinks it would be best if they were those of a Guilin Armortail."

Lui-Yang sighed. "Of course you would need something from one as dangerous as they come. As I told you, my friend Zhang-Min has a brother who works on a dragon preserve in the mountains. I told her I'd call as soon as you got in." She picked up a mirror that was on the table and spoke into it. "Wu Zhang-Min."

A few seconds later Lui-Yang's reflection was replaced by that of a woman with lustrous, shoulder length jet-black hair. "Hello, Lui-Yang! Has your guest arrived?"

"She's with me right now. Can you come over?"

"Give me a moment and I'll be on my way."

Five minutes later there was a small pop of apparition followed immediately by a knock on the door. After inviting her in and asking if she had eaten, Lui-Yang summoned another teacup and another plate of rice balls.

"Zhang-Min, meet my friend Ginny from Britain. We met at a quidditch training camp. Ginny's brother is seriously ill and is in need of help."  
The woman smiled, lighting up her face. "You said earlier she needed something from a dragon? I'm sure Le-Wei," she glanced over at Ginny, "my brother," she explained and then turned back to Lui-Yang, "will be able to help."

"Yes, but I didn't realize it needed to be from a Guilin Armortail."

Zhang-Min winced. "You would of course want something from the most magically powerful dragon in China. We can still ask. When can you be ready to head to the preserve?"

Ginny stood up. "I'm ready now."

With a quick wave of her wand, Lui-Yang floated the tea cups and plates back to the counter. "What are we waiting for?"

Zhang-Min pulled out at battered quill and the three touched it.

ATDATDATD

When the swirling colors resolved, Ginny found herself on a narrow mountain ridge. A fine mist softened the contours of the landscape. She could see some jagged spires across the valley ahead of her. The plateau where she was standing seemed to be one of the few areas she could see clear of dense vegetation. Focused on the view, she heard more than saw Lui-Yang and Zhang-Min mutter what she assumed were protection charms against the drizzly weather and she rapidly did the same.

"Zhang-Min!" the voice behind her was hearty, but alongside it was a more tentative, "Ginny?" Surprised, she whirled around. "Charlie!" Running forward, she gave him a hug. "What are you doing here?"

Charlie laughed as he swung her around. "Hey, little sister! I could ask the same of you! Le-Wei is a dear friend of mine. It's good to see you!"

Ginny caught her breath as Charlie set her down. Her smile evaporated. "Charlie, something serious has happened."

Charlie gave her an appraising look before grabbing her arm. "Let's talk inside the caretaker's hut. It will be a lot more comfortable."

ATDATDATD

Ginny quickly explained what had happened to Ron. All four listened intently. "So you need eggshell fragments from our local Armortail since it's the closest modern relative of the Xian Raptor?" the Chinese dragon keeper summarized.

Ginny nodded, taking a sip from the now cool tea that had been summoned to the table. "And we don't have much time."

Le-Wei remorsefully glanced at Charlie and carefully avoided looking at Ginny. "I would help you if I could," he said slowly and softly, "but that is not possible."

Ginny paled while Zhang-Min looked surprised at his statement. "But you are the best dragon keeper in China! I know they are vicious and magically powerful, but surely you can get close to a nest without losing your arm!"

Le-Wei shook his head. "Getting to the nest is the easy part." He ignored Charlie's snort. "The problem is in timing. The Guilin Armortail, you must understand, lays its eggs in early summer and the wyrmlings hatch eight and a half months later. We had a small clutch hatch about eight weeks ago. Unfortunately for us, the eggshell fragments are consumed by the wyrmlings as their first meal. With this species, the few leftover remnants dissolve from exposure to the elements within a week. There won't be another opportunity to collect them until next year."

Ginny blinked rapidly to keep tears from falling. Things had been going so easily. "I don't suppose any of you have a time-turner so that we could go back two months?" she asked in desperation. No one bothered to respond.

Liu-Yang rubbed her eyes. "If we had one, we could go back to before the Xian Raptor went extinct, but what's the English saying about wishes?"

Charlie looked down into his cup as if trying to find the solution in the tea leaves. "If wishes were thestrals, none would want to be at their side."

Le-Wei suddenly leaned forward. "Dead! That may be it! Do the egg fragments have to be new?"

Ginny was bemused as the rest. "Umm, I don't think so. I'd think the magical properties would be innate, which means they shouldn't degrade much over time. Do you have some in storage?"

Le-Wei tapped the table as he thought aloud. "Not of those of the Guilin Armortail, but I remember recently reading in our Central Kingdom Journal of Magical Animals that dragon eggshells were found mixed in with the excavated artifacts at the Yangling Mausoleum of the Han Dynasty. The eggshells must be well preserved – when the muggles found them, they thought the excavation pits had been contaminated by the detritus of modern habitation. I suspect that idea was planted by agents of our Central Committee for the Preservation of Secrecy. Anyway, as a result the eggshells were of no interest to them."

Zhang-Min brushed her hair back. "Any chance some of those fragments came from the Xian Raptor?"

Le-Wei smiled. "We can hope so. That was the last region they inhabited before going extinct."

"Should we go to the excavation pits and try to find some eggshells there?" asked Charlie.

Le-Wei drummed his fingers. "I think perhaps our best bet is to first head to the Shaanxi Archaeology Institute. I seem to recall that conservation of the excavated clay figurines was being done there. We can see if the eggshell fragments are still there as well. If we're unsuccessful, we'll head to the excavation site."

Ginny jumped up. "How do we get there?"

The others also rose. Le-Wei led the way out. "Though it's too far to apparate directly there, Xian is a popular jump from here. Once we get to the city we can apparate to the Institute. Let me get a couple of portkeys."

ATDATDATD

The portkeys landed them in a large courtyard with a dirt floor. Around them, whitewashed buildings with red columns were topped with green roofs. A muted cacophony of honking horns could be heard, but the courtyard reminding Ginny and Charlie of Diagon Alley, though the cloaks many of the people wore were made of silk, cut straight rather than flared and embroidered with colorful designs. Posters showed stone soldiers in armor fidgeting as they stood in long rows while the ears of horses twitched. Westerners were obviously a common sight as no one paid them much attention.

Liu-Yang grabbed Ginny's arm and wiggled her eyebrows. "Before we head off, I know, quoting a friend of mine from England, a cute little Chinese restaurant where we can go to for a quick bite to eat …"

"You won't let me forget that, will you?" Ginny groaned.

Liu-Yang just laughed. "Never!"

ADATDATD

As they paid the bill, Le-Wei looked at Zhang-Min and Liu-Yang. "Have either of you ever been to the Archaeology Institute?" Both shook their head. "Brother, not everyone is as interested in ancient history as you," Zhang-Min replied, rolling her eyes.

Le-Wei tutted. "And you don't know what you're missing. I'll take you first, and then we'll come back for the others."

ATDATDATD

Ginny usually didn't have much trouble with apparition, but she had done so much travelling in the past few hours that it took a few minutes with her eyes closed for her stomach to settle. When she was ready, she looked up to find the others patiently waiting for her in what looked to be an otherwise vacant classroom. "I'm ready. Where to?"

Le-Wei looked at her carefully before nodding. "We're in the part of the Institute open to the public," he said softly. "The scientists have a laboratory down the hall so that visitors can watch them work. They bring in finds from the park and prepare them for display. Let's go see what they've found." He cracked open the door and looked around before motioning them to follow him.

They had just reached the large observation window overlooking the laboratory when a voice behind them asked them something in Chinese in a suspicious voice. They turned to find a stout man in a uniform appraising them with his hands on his hips.

Le-Wei held out his hands and said something before motioning to the window. He turned to Ginny and Charlie. "He wanted to know when we got here since we're obviously not with a tour. I explained you are distinguished visitors from Britain who have come to learn about the important work that is done here. I asked him if he could briefly explain the work of the scientists. I'll translate."

The guard began an obviously well-practiced spiel in a bored monotone voice. Ginny, listening with feigned interest to Le-Wei's translation, whispered to Charlie, "Do you sense anything?"

Charlie held up his hands to the glass as if peering in. "I can definitely feel something magical in there," he softly replied.

When the guard finished, Le-Wei said something to him, obviously thanking him. He then turned to the others and motioned them to follow him. "We'll come back later," he told them.

Out in the parking lot, they gathered near a random car. "Now what?" asked Liu-Yang.

"Charlie, can you apparate into the lab now?" asked Ginny.

"Of course, now that I've seen it," he replied confidently.

"I'll disillusion myself and go back in. When it's clear, I'll contact you via mirror. As soon as it is, pop in and gather as many of the magical egg fragments as you can find."

"Sounds like a plan!"

ATDATDATD

Ginny waited for ten minutes, and then, impatient, cast a muggle repelling spell on the hall to get rid of the slow stream of tourists. She then cast a spell that gave the two scientists working in the lab an urgent need to take a thirty minute break for snacks from the vending machines. After she contacted Charlie, she heard a muted pop of apparition.

Charlie had disillusioned himself too, but he was moving fast enough that the disturbed air gave him away. Inside the lab, various artifacts on the central workbenches moved around as if they suddenly became animated. Underneath, multiple drawers opened and closed in rapid succession from workstation to workstation. After a brief pause, the glass doors on the right side cabinets flew open and various clay figurines, pottery and ceramic vases, bowls, plates and cups inched aside. The lower drawers opened and closed. The process was repeated with the cabinets on the other side of the room. Bins and boxes on the far wall were opened and quickly restacked. The process was repeated for every shelf. Finally, one box on the floor in the furthest corner was opened and remained opened. Small pottery and ceramic shards were discarded and landed on the floor. From one of the workstations, a small bright red plastic bin sailed through the air and landed near the open box.

Ginny heard footsteps approaching. She recast the muggle repelling spell and held her breath until the steps paused and then faded away. "Charlie!" she whispered into the mirror. "You're running out of time! Hurry up!"

"I'm just about done," came the reply. After a minute, the shards from the floor flew back into the box before it closed and made its way back to the corner.

"Got them!" he anmnounced in a triumphant tone. She saw the red bin float into the air and it disappeared with a pop. "Clear!" said Charlie. "I'm back by the car."

Ginny apparated to the parking lot. "What did you get?" she asked with anticipation.

Charlie held out the small red container which the others could see held numerous shell fragments of various colors and thicknesses. "The muggles had no idea what they had, and to be honest I'm not sure either. These look like fragments from the eggs of a variety of dragons, but I don't know if any are from the Raptor. Le-Wei?"

The Chinese dragon keeper quickly sorted through the shell fragments and pulled out nearly two dozen of varied sizes. "I think this is what you're looking for."

Ginny closed her eyes and gave a sigh of relief. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She took the ones Le-Wei had indicated and protectively put them carefully into a conjured cloth bag. She hugged Charlie in farewell. "I have a portkey to get back, but I doubt you'd make it through the wards where it takes me. By the way, please don't mention to anyone that you saw me here, OK?"

Charlie was puzzled. "Sure, sis, but why not?"

Ginny gave a weak smile. "It's a long story, and not a very interesting one. You'll be making your way to St. Mungo's, yeah?"

Charlie squeezed her tightly. "I'll be there as soon as I can." After quick hugs all around, Ginny took out the dented candlestick holder and said, "Mission success."

 _Thank you for reading, following, favoriting, and commenting!_


	10. From the Earth

_While I've read some fan fiction stories I'd swear were written by J.K. Rowling, I wouldn't presume this one to be in that category._

Wednesday morning, Harry had to stop himself from hexing two witches who dawdled in front of him down the narrow hallway near his office. To make matters worse, they were deciding where to eat lunch without a care in the world. They finally realized someone was behind them and stepped to the side, giving him a friendly wave as he passed without really looking at him.

As Harry approached his desk he was inundated with flying memos. He waved his wand to sort them by color. Sending the white and yellow ones to one side, he quickly read through the red and blue ones. He banished the ones that had been prioritized wrong – he normally had more patience if a sender mis-prioritized a message just to get his attention but he was too fatigued to do so now. If it was really important the sender would contact him again. Although many of the memos referred to the Lestrange incident, as it was referred to, he learned nothing new of significance. The complete destruction of the maighnead draíochta resulted in lots of speculation but no hard facts; none came even close to even identifying it. Harry was glad Snape was willing to risk Azkaban to help Ron or there would be no hope.

He walked over to Callista's office and was shown right in. He collapsed onto the chair in front of her desk.

As soon as she saw him, Callista summoned two cups of tea. "You look exhausted, Harry. What's the latest news about Ron?"

Harry shook his head. "It doesn't look good. He'll be stable for a bit, and then hit a sudden period of decline before stabilizing again. He can't be approached by any healer and any cast spells, even diagnostic ones, cause damage. Some potions are proving effective at keeping him comfortable."

"Does the family need anything?"

Yeah, hope that only knowing Snape is working on the solution will bring, Harry thought darkly to himself. He pasted on a pleasant face. "No, but thank you for asking. As always, the family has gathered together to support one another." After a few minutes of small talk, Harry put down his tea. "If you don't mind, I'll clear off my desk and then take vacation time for the rest of the week."

"Of course, Harry. Please keep us advised."

"Yes, ma'am," but not fully, Harry concluded to himself.

Racing through his work but constantly interrupted by fellow aurors who wanted to pass along messages or just express their best wishes, Harry took a few minutes to stop by Hermione's office as well as he had promised before he finally left the building at four. Flooing to St. Mungo's, he stopped by Ron's room. Trays of half-eaten food were floating in the corners while cups of coffee and tea were within everyone's reach. For once, no one was staring through the window at Ron though the chairs and sofas now formed a semi-circle around it. A few newspapers and magazines were folded at various pages.

The quiet conversations came to a halt when Harry entered the waiting area. He approached Hermione and squeezed her shoulder. She kept her arms around Rose and Hugo but gave him a small smile. "I have a pile of messages from your coworkers," he told her. "They all want you to know that they will drop everything at the drop of a hat if you need anything."

Hermione gave a weak smile. "Thanks, Harry."

Harry gave her shoulder another squeeze before motioning to Ginny to join him in a corner. "I need to head south," he whispered. "Have you heard anything?"

Ginny shook her head. She pulled him away so no one could overhear. "I got back about nine this morning our time." She inconspicuously cast a muffliato but lowered her voice as well. "Snape had already left for Egypt but I gave the package to Nuala."

"I'm sorry to leave you, Ginny," Harry said softly.

Ginny gave him a hug. "Go, Harry. That's the best way you can help Ron. I'll be fine."

Leaving St. Mungo's, Harry found a deserted alleyway and used the portkey to take him to the Stromboli coast. It was much warmer here; he took off his jacket and cast a cooling charm on himself.

Stepping out of the alleyway, he found himself in a town bustling with tourists speaking a variety of languages, all carrying walking sticks and wearing backpacks. He squinted in the strong late afternoon sun and looked up.

His hopes of being able to apparate up the mountain were immediately dashed. Clouds covered the summit. He sat down on a low wall as he considered his next step. If he was lucky the summit would be above the clouds. He made his way behind a tavern and uncloaked his broom. Bending low over it, he tossed his invisibility cloak over both it and him and took off.

As his flew up the volcano's side, he could see the zigzag of the hiking trail to the peak. He carefully kept it to his side to avoid anyone looking up and seeing him from below. As he approached the clouds he slowed a bit. He then flew straight up.

When he reached the top of the cloud bank, he realized that Stromboli's peak was hidden within the bank rather than emerging from it. He sighed. He hated flying blind, but had no choice.

As he entered the cloud his cloak began to vibrate and began to press upon him, suffocating him. It sounded like a rain of sand grains. Lifting up the cloak to better see what was happening, his eyes began to water and he began to choke. Holding one forearm over his mouth, he hovered. Usually he could do so with ease, but here his broom was highly unsteady. When he looked down at his broom handle, he saw it being abraded by the ash in the air as he was severely buffeted by the strong wind. Despite his utmost desire to reach the summit quickly, obviously he could not fly there even if he could somehow find it through the clouds.

Flying back out of the cloud bank, he once again threw his invisibility cloak over himself. He looked back and shook his head. It looked like the only way to get a rock from the summit would be the old-fashioned way. Looking down at the barren volcanic mountainside, he saw a steady line of hikers heading up the zigzag path to the summit. He could not apparate anywhere along the trail or he would be seen. He sighed and flew back down to the village, returning to the alleyway where he had first arrived.

Transfiguring a fallen brick into a day backpack, he cast a disillusion charm on his broom, placed it behind a brick wall, and warded it. He then walked back out of the alleyway.

The crowds had thinned but one group of American tourist was standing around. "Hey, Jacopo," a young woman in jeans and a green tee-shirt called out, "Do I have time to buy another bottle of water before we leave?"

A tall, muscular man with dark hair looked up from where he was sitting on a low brick wall. "Si. We still have two that need boots."

Harry casually walked over to the man. "Can you point me to the trail head?" he asked.

The man looked at him appraisingly before shaking his head. "You cannot walk up on your own. It is against the law. You must be with a group."

Sighing, Harry put his arms on the wall and looked out over the Mediterranean. "You wouldn't happen to have room for one more, would you?"

Jacopo took off his bandana and wiped his forehead. "I will have to check with the tour group leader. Signora Teresa, do you mind if one more joins us?" he called to a woman with short blond hair talking with four teenagers.

The woman looked over. "Not a problem, Jacopo."

Jacopo shrugged. "Si, you can join us. It will be 25 euros, which includes the price of renting the hiking boots and hiking stick. Pay the signora inside."

"Do I really need boots? My shoes are sturdy."

Jacopo looked down at his shoes before answering. "Si. You need more support for your ankles. The rocks are very loose on the trail and the heat is not good for soles. Trust me, these boots are comfortable," he added, holding out a foot to show off his own footwear.

As Harry pretended to reach into the backpack for money, his discretely took out his wand. He thought a moment about the exchange rate and transformed some pounds he had for the muggle world into euros before walking into the shop.

Ten minutes later, Jacopo gathered the group together. "Good afternoon, everybody. Is everyone ready?" A chorus of "Let's go" and "Ready" responded back.

"Remember, we will need to keep a steady pace to make it up to the summit and back down again in time to catch the late night boat back to Sicily. If you cannot keep up, then please enjoy the evening view from where you are and come back down. Stay on the trail, though. Meet the group back at this square. Are there any questions?"

"How long did you say it would take?" asked one of the girls who was slightly overweight.

"Three hours up. We'll spend an hour at the rim so you can enjoy the nighttime glow of the magma, and it takes only two hours to return. If you come back early, please enjoy the town, but be back here by eleven o'clock."

A stocky boy grabbed her hand. "Don't worry, Amber. If you don't want to go all the way, I'll come back with you, OK?" The girl smiled at him. A brown haired boy next to her glowered.

The group started off. In a few minutes they had left the town. The trail was steep and frequently zigzagged. Soon the conversations in the group had slowed down as people saved their breath for the climb. Harry, who thought he was in good shape, found himself panting. Around him, the burnt remains of bushes were reminders of what lay ahead. A sign warned of the risk of landslides and volcanic eruption.

The guide stopped an hour later and everyone gratefully sat down on the ground, taking out their water bottles. Harry admired the view of the town below and the deep blue sea beyond it. He caught his breath.

When they stood up again, Amber leaned heavily on her walking stick. "Jacopo, I'm turning around." The stocky boy who had walked next to her the entire way up took her hand. "I'll go with her."

"I'll help you too, Amber," said the brown haired boy Harry had noticed earlier. The two boys glared at each other.

Jacopo waved his hands. "Go, go, all three of you. Just be at the meeting point on time."

Harry snickered to himself as the two boys almost stumbled over each other to help the girl. As the three started downhill, he examined the clouds over the summit hoping for a break, but it looked like he would end up hiking the whole way. He suddenly realized the rest of the group had already started and hurried to catch up.

A lanky boy with short, light brown hair at the back of the group turned around when he heard Harry approach. He smiled. "I wondered if you had decided to turn around too."

"Nah, just admiring the view."

"You're British, aren't you? Sightseeing on your own?"

"Yes. I gather you're on a school trip."

"Yep. We're taking an earth science tour of southern Italy. I'm Nathan, by the way."

"Harry Potter." He was always amazed at way Americans were so informal with people they had just met.

"My parents were from Ipswich. They moved to the States before I was born, though, and I've never been there."

Harry figured the boy to be around 16. His family had probably left as a result of the second Death Eater War, but it had been peaceful since then. "I'm surprised your parents never took you back to meet relatives."

Nathan shrugged. "They said they didn't have many happy memories of the place and never wanted to return."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Perhaps you can come on your own sometime and make up your own mind. You shouldn't let your parent's feelings dictate your opinions. Ipswich is a beautiful historical city, one of the oldest in Britain."

"Well, I'm really not into history. I'm more into the sciences. That's why I signed up for this trip. I love volcanoes."

They paused a moment to look down at the town as they came to another switchback. "So are going to be a scientist of some type?" Harry asked conversationally as the started hiking again.

"Maybe. I really want to study chemistry. My dad's a pharmacist."

Harry thought of Snape. "One of my mentors is a pharmacist. My kids just take the minimal required courses in chemistry. My oldest boy wants to be a policeman and the younger one wants to pay professional sports."

"So you have two kids?"

Harry smiled. "Three, actually. My daughter just entered a boarding school and is still at the age when all boys are still just friends. Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"Yeah, two younger sisters." The two continued to chat to pass the time.

It was beginning to get dark. Harry concentrated on the path below his feet to be sure he didn't stumble on the loose rocks. It wasn't until he heard those in front of him exclaiming about the view that he looked up. The group was about to enter into the fog surrounding the summit. Within minutes visibility had deteriorated to a half dozen meters. The air noticeably chilled.

"Dementor weather," Harry mumbled to himself. Nathan's head shot up "You're a wizard!"

Harry looked up so suddenly that he skidded slightly. He quickly cast a muffliato. "What did you say?"

Nathan took a deep breath. "You are! Why are you hiking up?"

Harry grabbed Nathan's shoulder to stop him. "Are you too?"

Nathan shrugged. "Nah. I'm a no-maj. My dad's one, though, that's how I know about dementors. My mom's a no-maj too – that's why they left England. They said mixed marriages weren't accepted well there. My dad's family basically disowned him."

The two started forward again as the people ahead of them began to disappear into the fog. "So is your dad actually a potions master?"

Nathan nodded. "He runs a hawk-order pharmacy. That's how I got interested in chemistry. I can't actually make any potions, but I can sometimes help with the preparations. So why are you hiking?"

Harry snorted. "Apparition is fine if you know when you can picture the destination. Portkeys are fine if there's a set destination. Flying is fine if you can see. When none of these fit the bill, muggle means become the only way."

Nathan cocked his head. "But why come here at all? Do you just like volcanoes?"

Harry took a minute to cast a quick warming charm. Cold rain was beginning to come down, blurring his vision. "To tell you the truth, at this point I just want to get what I need and then return home. I have a friend who's dying, and the potion to cure him requires fresh igneous rock." He slid a bit before catching himself.

Nathan glanced back, leaning on his stick. "That makes sense. What you'll get here is as fresh as it gets."

At the next switchback they came to a small hut. Jacopo was waiting for them. "Here are your goggles and masks for the rest of the trip up." He gave them each a set of what Harry recognized to be clear plastic safety goggles and a blue and white face mask. Nathan reached into his backpack for a jacket. Harry quickly transfigured a rock into a warm sweater. When they had put on the goggles and face masks, Jacopo handed them yellow safety helmets and torches.

"Catch up, but be very careful now!"

The wind had picked up in just the few minutes they had been in the hut. The cold rain stung Harry's hands and dripped down his goggles. Feeling chilled, Harry thought he could use a good cup of piping hot tea. They caught up to the group just in time. The fog grew so thick Harry could just make out Nathan, who was only a half meter ahead of him. The blowing wind prevented any conversation. A low rumble seemed to come through the ground. A sulfuric stench made its way through the face mask. As he carefully followed Nathan's shadowy figure, Harry felt as if the world had disappeared and that only he and the boy ahead of him were left.

When Nathan suddenly stopped, Harry stumbled against him. Suddenly Harry found himself in a clear pocket of air. When he looked to the left, the fog prevented him from seeing anything. When he looked to the right, however, he was so startled he almost stepped back. He was on the lip of the volcanic crater. Below, the red-hot pool of lava seemed alive as it churned and bubbled.

Harry forgot to breathe for a moment when a fountain-like burst of lava rose a hundred meters high from the pool, the incandescent fragments lighting up the crater. Ash and pumice darkened his goggles. Recalling his mission, he unobtrusively took out his wand and pointed it at an area where the lava landed from the burst he had just witnessed. He was just about to incant an accio when Jacopo emerged from the fog behind him and bumped into him. Off balance, Harry's feet slipped and he began to slide forward into the crater. He instinctively twisted and grabbed the packed earth on the rim. He heard his wand clatter somewhere behind him.

"Signore, mi dispiace! Are you ok? Hold on!"

Harry held on with his fingers as tight as he could. His feet desperately sought solid rock but all they succeeded in doing was kicking the loose rocks down the talus slope. He felt himself slipping further down. For a moment, Harry contemplated the irony of surviving Voldemort, Death Eaters, and over-eager house elves only to die on a muggle hike. How long would it be before anyone from Britain even looked for him?

Jacopo and Nathan each reached for an arm and pulled him up. The three sat together overlooking the lava pool catching their breath. Harry realized two things: his wand was somewhere below and his knee was so painful he knew he barely could put any weight on it. He took several deep breaths and leaned towards the boy.

"Nathan," he whispered, "I dropped my wand. Do you see it?"

Nathan looked over the edge and spotted it in the glow. "Yeah. It's about six feet below us," he whispered back. "It's dangling on a small ledge. Can you call it to you?"

Harry looked at his hands. They had been torn up when he was holding on for dear life. and were trembling slightly. "Not in this condition."

Nathan looked over at the Italian. "Jacopo, I'd like to help Mr. Potter clean the dirt of his wounds so they don't get infected, but I'm out of water. Can you see who in our group has a full bottle?"

"Si. Stay here." Jacopo disappeared into the fog.

Nathan reached into his backpack and pulled out an extra set of jeans. He knotted one leg around his own ankle. "Can you hold onto this end?"

Harry nodded. "Knot it around my wrist."

Nathan got on his stomach and began to slide over the lip, using his arms and legs to slow his descent. When only his toes remained on the path, Harry heard him say, "Got it! Can you pull me up?"

Harry took several steps backwards, straining to pull Nathan back up. When Nathan was finally back on top, he looked like he had visited a coal mine, but Harry's wand was in his hand.

"I don't know how to thank you!" Harry said fervently. Taking the wand between his thumb and index finger, he was able to do some rudimentary first aid and a cleaning spell on the boy. After catching his breath and still sitting down, he transfigure two rocks into boxes. He then very carefully incanted two accios. When the still steaming rocks emerged from two different parts of the crater basin, he directed them into one box. He then accio'd another newly-formed rock and sent it into the second box which he gave to Nathan. "Maybe your dad can use this. I don't know how many potions require fresh rock, but if he doesn't have a use for it you can have it as a souvenir."

"Thanks, Harry! I'll give it to him as soon as I get home." Nathan slipped the box into his backpack.

By the time Jacopo came back out of the fog, Harry and Nathan were standing up. "Signore, you're up! I thought we would need to call the rescue squad!"

Harry smiled. "No, it was just a little slip. Thank you both for saving me from far greater injury." Turning so his actions were hidden from Jacopo, he quickly transfigured a rock into a card and gave it to the young American. "I hope you do visit England. If you do, contact me ahead of time and I'll take you to some sites you'll find very interesting. Let me know if I can ever do anything for you or your father. Your parents may not have the best memories, but things have changed." He then faced Jacopo. "Thank you again. If you don't mind, I'll head down on my own – I have my own transportation waiting."

"Si. Just stay on the path. You'll find it's much quicker to go down than it was to come up."

Harry smirked. "I'm sure it will be," and disappeared into the fog. The small pop of apparition was covered up by the low rumbling of the mountain.

 _According to the upcoming movie "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them," "no-maj" is the American word for muggle. Please review!_


	11. From the South

_While I've read some fan fiction stories I'd swear were written by J.K. Rowling, I wouldn't presume this one to be in that category._

Severus Snape stopped stirring the potion and lowered the flame under the caldron. He stood up straight and stretched. In front of him were seven caldrons, each with a slightly different base. He would update his arithmancy equations once all the ingredients were gathered to determine which one would be best to use. As he methodically cleaned up his lab, he allowed himself a moment to reflect.

He snorted at Granger-Weasley putting herself in debt to him and his daughter to get him to develop the potion. He would have done so anyway for the sheer challenge. Probably. Maybe. No, probably, in order to thumb his nose at the MLE.

He picked up vials from a shelf that contained a variety of potions, shrunk them down, and carefully packed them into a carrying case which he tucked deep into his robe. By habit, he took a last glance around the lab to make sure everything was secure before leaving the room.

Stephen was reading a quidditch magazine and idly making a doll-sized broom do acrobatics when Snape entered the kitchen. "Hey, Da, are you done with the base? How many caldrons did you decide to make? Did you change how you prepared all the ingredients for each or did you just alter the preparation of one or two? If you …"

Snape held up his hand. "Yes. Seven. The latter. You need to ask one question at a time, Stephen. I don't want to take the time to answer any more now; we can talk when I get back." He affectionately squeezed his son's shoulder.

Patrick ran through the door and into his father's arms. "Da, look at the blue dragonfly I caught! It's tiny!"

Snape smiled at his younger son as he looked at the small insect cradled in the boy's hands. "Good job, Patrick. It's actually a damselfly. See how its eyes are wide apart? I can use it in a healing potion if you give it to me." He looked at Nuala who was putting a sleeping Fianna into a playpen on the floor. "I've done all the prep work I can here. I need to head off to Egypt to get the final ingredient."

Nuala double-checked to make sure Fianna hadn't woken up and walked over to her husband. "Take care, love," she said as she gave him a small hug. "Watch out for those mummies."

Stephen's eyes sparkled in excitement. "It would be great to find a true mummy! Their shrouds can be used for some interesting potions. Did you …"

"Hush, Stephen. Boys, your Da is heading off. Give him a hug."

"Stephen, take the damselfly and show Patrick how we store it in a tin. Label it so I know which one he caught. That way I'll be able to note which potion I use it in." He smiled at Patrick. "I'll give you a percentage of the profit from the potion."

At Patrick's confused look, Stephen knelt down to take the small insect and explained, "Da's going to pay you for finding the damselfly."

Patrick's eyes widened. "Da will pay me? I'm gonna catch some more!"

Snape nodded, proud of his two sons. He turned back to Nuala. "Look out for them for me, Nuala? I should be back by dusk."

"Always, love."

ATDATDATD

Snape stepped out of the swirl of colors into a monotone world of tan. He was in a courtyard surrounded on three sides by walls of earthen bricks and a dirt floor, covered by a dull colored canopy. The view out the fourth side was of tall sand dunes. Even in the shade, Snape began to sweat. He transfigured his robes into a light-weight galabiya and stepped into the sun.

The unrelenting sun in the bright blue sky made his eyes water. He walked around the portkey entry site and looked down a small incline to a completely different world, one lush green. To the left he could hear the sounds of a modern metropolis, with beeping horns blending together into a constant hum. An Egyptian wizard stepped out from the entry site and nodded before apparating away. Snape rubbed the sweat from his forehead and apparated to Cairo.

The city seemed even hotter than the countryside, and here the noise that had been muffled by distance became a din so loud that he had to withhold a shudder. He had apparated to a site he remembered in the wizarding annex of Al-Azhar University. He made his way to the Khan el-Khalili bazaar.

Snape's sensitive nose was assailed by the aromas of the marketplace. He recognized the scents of various spices, coffee, and shawarma. He slowed his steps when he caught an odor he didn't recognize and entered a small shop. He happily negotiated the purchase of several spices and unobtrusively changed some galleons into Egyptian pounds.

Passing stands selling souvenirs and antiques, he ignored the cries of vendors trying to attract his attention. Arriving at the jewelry district, a shop with glittering gold necklaces on display caught his eye. One had an attractive figurine of the cat goddess Bastet dangling from sinuous chain links. After a few minutes of spirited haggling, he purchased it for Nuala.

Burying the necklace in a pocket and warding it shut against the street urchins, he continued past the goldsmiths' souq. Electric lighting disappeared. Snape assumed the muggles would believe that this part of Khan el-Khalili was not attached to the power grid. He felt the anti-muggle wards that encouraged them to turn back. He had arrived at his destination, Cairo Sihr.

Snape made his way to a coffeehouse and ordered, confident that his presence had been noted. A tray containing a long handled gold coffeepot and a cup appeared front of him. He had just poured the coffee into the cup when a burly man joined him.

"Ah, Snape Sahar, it is good to see you again, my friend. It has been too long."

Snape reached over and grabbed the man's hand. "Tarek, it is good to be back. How is your family?"

Tarek smiled widely. "All is well. I have four children now, fine boys. The oldest one is in school. The middle two keep Raneem busy fixing the results of their accidental magic; fortunately our neighbors are all wizards so we don't get complaints when toys are seen floating in the back yard. The baby is a sweet as they come. And you?"

A second cup appeared on the table. "Stephen will start school in the fall – do you believe it? Patrick made Stephen's hair blue to his dismay and to my satisfaction. Fianna is a typical baby. You remember that age – they eat, sleep, and defecate and win your heart so that when they get older you put up with their sassiness."

Tarek chuckled. "True, my friend. Do you have time for a visit?"

"Perhaps later. Unfortunately, I'm on a quest with a deadline."

"What do you seek? Some sort of rare potion ingredient I assume."

Snape nodded. "I assume you've heard of the scarabaeus sacer magicae."

Tarek frowned. "You don't look for anything easy. The non-magical variety is common, but the magical species is rare even here. Do you need it alive or dried?"

"I'd prefer live. The arithmancy is tricky for the potion I need it for. Once I get one in hand I'll be able to deduce its properties and insert variations into the equation to see what gives me the best answer. Having a live magical scarab will give me the greatest number of options."

"I suggest you seek a nest in the Valley of the Kings. A friend of a friend just returned from there and said he saw one, though I don't know if he was exaggerating."

"Thank you, Tarek. Do you know where I can get a portkey?"

"Untraceable, I assume? For a price, anything is possible. I know you always carry potions with you. What do you have that may be of interest?" He summoned a menu from the counter.

Snape smiled as he reached into a pocket.

ATDATDATD

The heat in the Valley of the Kings was even more intense. Squinting in the bright sun, the Potions Master turned around to get his bearings. He was standing on a small ledge about halfway up the cliff overlooking the junction of two bone-dry wadis. Since it was after lunch, tourist groups had returned to the east side of the river. Looking down onto the lighter rocks below, he could see that only a handful of people remained, and they moved in a desultory manner or rested in the shade. After summoning some water from the Nile, directing it into a bottle he had transfigured from a rock, and purifying it, he picked his way down a narrow path.

In his now dusty galabiya he attracted little attention. He reasoned that the scarabs he was seeking were most likely to be found near one of the tombs so they could absorb the residue magical emanations from any wizarding objects which had been buried with the pharaohs. He slowly made his way to the end of one of the valleys, avoiding any stragglers or workers while keeping his senses attuned for signs of the magical scarab. He did not want to be seen collecting the beetles, and in the bright sun disillusionment charms were less effective. He snorted quietly – he wouldn't need to even think about using a disillusionment charm because he was seeing no signs of any scarabs, magical or otherwise.

He got to the end of the wadi and was about to turn around to try his luck down another valley when he glanced up. A narrow trail led up a scree slope to an area that looked like would be the site of a small waterfall when it rained. A sign indicated another tomb could be found there. He shrugged, drank some more water, and began to climb.

Even with a cooling charm, the heat was debilitating. By the time he made it to Thutmosis' tomb, he was out of breath. He wiped his face with his sleeve and sat down on a rock to catch his breath. In the shimmering air he could picture in his mind the funeral procession as it made its way to the pharaoh's earthly final resting spot. Among the entourage of priests would be the court's wizards, with their staffs levitating some of the magical treasures to be buried alongside the more mundane objects that would be so eagerly sought by muggle archeologists of his era simply because they were made of gold. They were unaware that the true treasures were ancient enchanted objects lost to time.

He took another drink of water and put down his bottle. He froze as he did so. He could feel a very slight magical emanation. Very slowly he looked down. Near his hand a scarab was scurrying towards a hole. Acting with dueler's reflexes, he drew his wand and trapped the beetle in a fine net. He stayed still, and his patience was rewarded when a few minutes later two more scarabs scuttled nearby. He trapped those as well. After he had caught his fourth beetle, he pulled out an empty vial from his pocket and carefully transferred all four into it, making sure they had air to breathe. He sighed in satisfaction, and took out his portkey home.

 _Thanks for reading. Please review!_


	12. The Potion

_While I've read some fan fiction stories I'd swear were written by J.K. Rowling, I wouldn't presume this one to be in that category._

Harry felt the situation was surreal. He was sitting in Snape's kitchen along with Ginny and Hermione having tea with potion master's wife and playing with his son. What had happened? He had stopped by to see if there was anything else he could do to assist the professor and before he realized what had happened he had found himself sitting down for tea. He mentally shook his head and focused again on Stephen.

Hermione felt numb. So much had happened since Ron had left Saturday afternoon. An hour ago the healers had told her that her husband's condition was slowing deteriorating and that they were out of options. She told the assembled family she needed a few minutes to herself and found to her surprise that while thinking she needed a peaceful place to compose herself she had instinctively apparated to Snape's house rather than her own. When Nuala had answered the door, it was obvious that she had been forgiven, for Nuala silently took her in her arms and led her to the kitchen table where the others were quietly taking tea. She blessed the fact that she had supportive family and friends.

Ginny felt queasy. Too many long distance portkeys had caught up with her. She needed some time to recover before she could face St. Mungo's again. When she had sat down, Patrick had come up to her with an armful of books and now he was on her lap. Fortunately, the pictures in the children's wizarding books were slow moving. The boy laughed whenever his touch caused the dragon to breathe fire.

Nuala felt satisfied. When she had first met her husband he'd seemed to believe that it was him against the world. After she'd broken through his barriers she'd discovered why. She was shocked to discover stories of giants and leprechauns were not myths. She was grateful that the school Headmistress accepted her husband for who he was. Now she was entertaining three friends of his in the kitchen and he hadn't objected. True, he hadn't come out of his lab yet, but she knew he felt it when anyone passed through the wards.

Stephen felt lucky. One of the best non-professional quidditch players in Britain was showing him game moves using transfigured salt and pepper shakers.

Patrick felt contented. The woman with red hair had a good reading voice.

All looked up when Snape strode into the kitchen with a stack of parchment held in his hands. He summoned a chair over and sat down heavily.

Nuala could see he needed to talk about the mysterious potion he was brewing. She put a cup of tea in front of him. "Severus, I promised the boyos I'd take them to the park before dinner. Can you keep an ear out for Fianna? She went down for a nap in her room less than an hour ago." Severus nodded without looking up from the papers.

Ginny looked up from Patrick's book. "We'll assist if the professor is busy."

Satisfied, Nuala almost kissed Snape's cheek but decided doing that would be too much in front of guests. Instead she squeezed his shoulder. She headed into the hall. "Come on, boyos." The boys grumbled but jumped down and followed her out the door. Stephen looked back one last time as he was grabbing his jacket to see the miniature quidditch figures returning to their original shapes, leaving a fine trail of salt and pepper on the table.

"Professor?" Hermione asked hesitantly and with a sinking heart.

Snape put a hand on the parchment and looked at her. "I can't get the likelihood of success over forty-eight percent."

Hermione shut her eyes. "Thank Merlin. I thought you were going to say it would fail. The healers have said it's only a question of time. I'll take forty-eight percent."

Snape sighed. "I've seen too many people die. I don't like to fail."

"Professor," Ginny hesitantly spoke up, "none of us can remotely compare ourselves to you in terms of knowledge of potions, but perhaps if you tell us in a broad sense how you've approached the problem, something new might occur to you."

Snape looked at the three of them and snorted. "It can't hurt." He straightened out the parchments. "The problem is in the proportion of ingredients added to the base. As I told you, the meteorite is just the catalyst. The amulet has to be used in its entirety – even shaving off a sliver renders it ineffective. You brought back fifteen grams of dragon shells; using more or less than fourteen grams makes the potions less effective. There's a possibility that the likelihood of success increases again at, say, twenty-one grams, but with the small amount I need to prepare I'm not inclined to believe that to be so."

The three nodded in understanding. "And the rocks I brought back – were they big enough?" Harry asked. "I can easily go back for more."

Snape shook his head. "No need for that. It turns out I actually only needed one. The freshness of the larger of the two rocks is a perfect counterbalance to the age of the meteorite. I need the mass of the igneous rock and the meteorite to balance so I actually have to shave some of your rock off."

"And the seaweed?"

"The seaweed will act as the binding agent. As such, the amount required is determined by the volume of the final product and so can be easily calculated. I'll have enough left over for several other potions."

"So the problem is how many scarabs to add?" asked Hermione, fascinated by the discussion despite the situation.

"Not so much how many, but what parts. If I use a whole scarab, the chance of success is thirty-four percent. If I use just the head, that drops significantly. Similarly, if I use just the carapace, the odds drop. The highest probability of success is if I shell two scarabs and just use their internal organs. If I use the internal organs of more than that, I don't get any increase in the possibility of success. However, I refuse to believe that I can't get the odds at least even."

Hermione almost reached out her hand to tap the Potion Master on his arm but stopped herself. "It's okay, Professor. Maybe it's not possible to improve the odds. If you can't do it, no one can. If Ron –" she bit her lip and took a deep breath, "doesn't make it, I'll know nothing could have been done." She choked back a sob. Ginny reached over to hug her.

As if in sympathy, Fianna started crying. Snape stood up to get her. He suddenly stopped before leaving the room. "Perhaps …" While the three guests watched in silent bemusement, he sat back down again and picked up the quill. He rifled through the pages. When he found what he was looking for, he took that one out and pushed the rest aside with his arm. He began to frantically alter the equations, ignoring the continual wailing coming from down the hall.

"Umm, Professor, I'll pick up your daughter," Ginny said rising from the chair.

Snape nodded distractedly. He looked up as she was about to step out of the room and firmly directed, "Don't change her!"

"Professor, we have been through three of our own. Ginny won't hurt her," Harry broke in.

"Just don't!" was the snappish response.

"Sure, Professor," Ginny said soothingly. A minute later she returned to the kitchen with the noisy and smelly infant in her arms.

Snape finished the revised equation he was working with a flourish and finally looked up. "Sixty-seven percent!" He stood up and carefully took Fianna from Ginny. He kissed the top of her head. "That's my wonderful witch!" he said to her with a note of pride. He stepped out of the room towards the lab.

The three watched him go. "Umm, you don't think he's going to use his own daughter in the potion?" Ginny asked in confusion.

Harry shook his head. "No way. He loves her and that wouldn't change even if she turns out to be a squib."

"Both Steven and Patrick are wizards," Ginny pointed out. "I'm guessing Fianna is magical too."

Harry shrugged. "She's too young to have displayed accidental magic. She might not be."

"No, Harry," Hermione corrected him. "When I made my oath, the magic wrapped around both of them. It wouldn't have done so if she didn't have a magical core. She's definitely a witch." She reached for the paper Snape had been working on. "Merlin, I don't even know what some of these symbols stand for. Let's see, here is where he was revising. If this means scarab, then this .. I don't know!"

"And that's why I'm a Potions Master," said a dry voice coming from the door. The three spun around. In his arms, Snape was holding a now cooing Fianna. "I'm sorry, Professor," Hermione began, "I just wanted…"

"… to know what I was working on. If it was a secret, I never would have brought it into the kitchen while you were here." He smirked. "My fine scarabs are busy even while we speak happily preparing the final ingredient for the potion." He became serious. "I still can't guarantee success, but it is promising. At least what I have will stabilize him and give me more time to search for something better."

"You said the scarabs are preparing the final ingredient … you don't mean…" Harry asked slowly.

"My brother's going to eat dung?!" cried out Ginny.

"And only the most pure," Snape confirmed. "Using dung from adults would increase the chance of success to sixty-one percent, but Fianna has consumed solely mother's milk."

"Does it matter that Nuala is a muggle?" asked Hermione hesitantly.

Snape shook his head. "The oath that binds you to her makes up for the fact that my wife is non-magical. Even if you know a witch with a newborn with whom you are willing to put yourself into debt, that would increase the chance of success to sixty-five percent. With Fianna it's slightly higher because I am brewing the potion. When I do so, my magic will interact with that in the dung since her core still recognizes mine."

Ginny looked slightly ill. "My poor brother. We don't have to let him know what's in the potion, do we?"

"Since no one outside this room and Rose will ever know I'm creating it, he will never know my daughter's innate magic was crucial to his survival." Snape's expression momentarily faltered. "Hopefully so. Remember, there's still a thirty-three percent possibility of complete failure. It will be three hours before I can add the final ingredient, and then it will take thirteen more for the potion to be finished." He kissed his daughter gently on her forehead before turning back to the company. "While I appreciate what you have done, you are not needed here. Mrs. Granger-Weasley, bring your daughter to the same spot we met before tomorrow morning at nine."

ATDATDATD

At a quarter to nine, Hermione discretely took Rose from the waiting area. Her daughter was smart enough not to say anything until she was out of hearing distance.

"You don't really want me to accompany you to the cafeteria, do you mom?" Rose asked quietly.

Hermione shook her head. Even though she did not see anyone, she kept her voice in a whisper. "I need you to meet up with the Professor again and then to return to the house." She squeezed her daughter's hand.

Rose replied in an even softer whisper, "Does that mean …?"

Hermione nodded. "It may not be a complete cure yet, but at least it's something."

ATDATDATD

When Hermione and Snape-as-Rose returned to the waiting area, they found one of the healers talking to Molly, Arthur, and Harry. Snape-as-Rose went to the observation window where Hugo and Charlie were standing. Ginny, Bill, Fleur, Percy and Audrey were in a tight huddle in one corner while George and Angelina were holding hands on the sofa. Teddy was staring into space from a chair. The healer patted Hermione on the arm as she joined them while Snape-as-Rose went to the stand next to next to Hugo and Charlie. "I'm sorry. If there's anyone else you would like here to say farewell, you may wish to contact them now. The drain on his core is accelerating quickly now."

Snape-as-Rose looked up. "Mom, I want to say good-bye in person."

The healer shook her head. "I can't recommend it. Any drain on his core could result in a quick final spiral downward."

Hermione looked at the healer. "Thank you for your concern, but if it's only a question of time, then my children have the right to hug their father one last time."

Hugo looked up. His eyes were red. "Mom, I don't .."

Hermione hugged him. "Oh, Hugo, you don't need to do anything you don't want to. You understand Rose needs to have the chance to say good-bye in person, though, don't you?"

Hugo nodded, tears beginning to roll down his cheek. "I just can't …" Hermione drew him close to her.

Unexpectedly, Molly spoke up. "Healer Dunsworth," she said with a catch in her voice, "It's been over three decades since my brothers were killed, and I still regret not saying good-bye to them. Let Rose in." For the first time, Hermione felt slightly guilty about her deception.

The healer shook her head again. "It's your decision. Let me check on his current condition."

Snape-as-Rose approached Hermione. She pulled her "daughter" into an embrace and motioned to Ginny to take Hugo.

Leaning on her shoulder as if seeking comfort, he whispered into her ear. "I need you to create a major diversion to take everyone's attention away from the window when I go in. I don't want to risk anyone seeing me giving Mr. Weasley the potion."

Hermione thought rapidly. "I can swoon by the couch."

"Just make sure everyone's attention is focused on you so ham it up."

Hermione gave a weak smile. "I just came up with a better idea …" She gave Snape-as-Rose a final hug for the sake of the others and approached Harry while gesturing at Ginny.

A few minutes later, Snape-as-Rose was cleared by the Healer to enter Ron's room. Hermione, standing next to the door to the hall, raised her voice. "You are so dense, Harry."

Harry raised his voice as well. "You're the one who said it, Hermione. Don't deny it."

Ginny pushed Harry back, shrieking, "Haven't you ever heard of sarcasm, Harry?" By this point all eyes were on the trio. "When she said of course you were responsible, she was trying to get you to see how ridiculous you were being."

"But she's right!" Harry replied, rubbing his eyes. "If I hadn't …" His voice broke into a sob. "I did this to my best friend. If I hadn't asked Ron …"

Molly and Arthur had quietly approached. The three were carefully standing so everyone watching them had their backs to the observation window. With a quick glance Hermione saw Snape-as-Rose putting a vial back into the robe's pockets. She couldn't tell for sure, but it looked like he was casting some sort of spell with his wand. She turned her attention back to Harry and gave him a slight nod.

Molly grabbed Harry's arm. "Harry! You're not to blame for this!"

Hermione, Harry and Ginny looked down as if ashamed to be fighting when Ron lay dying in the room next door. "Thank you, Molly," Harry muttered slowly with a catch in his throat.

A softly crying Snape-as-Rose left Ron's side and returned to Hermione for a comforting embrace. When silence once again reined, he and Hermione quietly slipped out. When Hermione reached an unoccupied room she grabbed Snape-as-Rose's arm and slipped into it, warding it for privacy. She collapsed onto a chair. "When will we know if the potion will work?"

Snape-as-Rose looked out the window. "In a couple of hours. I know it did no immediate harm, so that's promising." He sighed. "It's time to retrieve your daughter. She should be here for real in either case."

ATDATDATD

Hermione was able to pass what Snape had told her to Harry, Ginny, and Rose, and the next two hours passed excruciatingly slowly for the four of them. Healers came and went, visually checking the hovering monitors from the observation window. The routine was broken when one healer suddenly left the area to return with four others. The five stood in a huddle, talking in low intense whispers.

Hermione approached them while the rest of the family looked on. "What is it?"

One healer held up a hand to motion for her to wait. After another flurry of discussion, he turned to her. "We don't understand it, but the monitors show that your husband's core has stabilized." Guarded cheers erupted in the room.

The cautious healer looked around. "We can't be sure of anything yet. This may just be a small blip of activity."

Arthur smiled gently. "This is the first glimmer of good news. We'll take it."

 _Hmm, the potion needs another ingredient. What could it be? Please review!_


	13. East is east

_While I've read some fan fiction stories I'd swear were written by J.K. Rowling, I wouldn't presume this one to be in that category._

Over the next two days, Ron's condition remained stable but, to everyone's disappointment, did not improve. Nonetheless, at least Rose and Hugo were able to spend longer periods of time with their still unconscious father. With her husband's magical core no longer deteriorating, Hermione spent Friday night in her own bed for the first time in a week. She met Harry at St. Mungo's cafeteria Saturday morning for coffee and a muffin. "Have you heard anything more from Professor Snape?" she asked him after casting an inconspicuous muffliato.

Harry grimaced at the bitter taste of his drink and added another sugar. "I checked in with Nuala before coming over. She said he was still holed up in his lab. She said he's determined to find out why Ron's not improving." He took another sip and then banished his cup as a lost cause. "Ready?" Hermione nodded, banishing her overly dry, half-eaten muffin and picking up her own cup of coffee to finish later.

As the two of them walked through the hospital's atrium on the way to Ron's room, an unfamiliar voice stopped them. "Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter!"

Harry, accustomed to people seeking him out, looked around. His annoyance faded when he saw the portrait trying to get his attention. "Headmistress Derwent!" He looked around to make sure no one was watching and went closer to the frame. "Have you found anything that might help Ron?"

"Aye. Can you meet me at Hogwarts? One of the healers found something that could be very helpful." No longer needing the caffeine, Hermione disposed of her cup and they made their way to the floo.

ATDATDATD

McGonagall let them through immediately. "Dilys told me she was going to catch you this morning. The healers seem very excited." She led them to the chairs in front of her desk and sat down herself.

In the portrait on the wall behind the headmistress, Derwent had already joined Dumbledore and the six healers. One of the stout healers stood in front of the group, fingering his gray beard with one hand while holding a painted book in the other. "When you mentioned a maighnead draíochta, I knew I'd read of that somewhere," he began with a Northumberland accent. "But it took me awhile to find the reference. I had to visit almost every portrait with books in the castle to find what I was looking for. Why, on the fourth floor…"

"Yes, yes, yes, Healer Wakemeadow," interrupted the healer with a dark goatee. "We've heard the story. Get to the point and let them know what you've found."

Wakemeadow frowned at his compatriot. "See here, Rumpherd, I'm providing the necessary background to…"

Harry cleared his throat. "We appreciate your research, Healer Wakemeadow. Ron's stable now, but Professor Snape…"

"Headmaster Snape," interrupted Phineas Black from his portrait. "A person keeps the title even after retirement."

"Headmaster Snape," Harry continued, "is searching for a modification to his formula which will result in a complete recovery."

"Precisely!" exclaimed Wakemeadow. "Now, I've found that what he needs is something from each of the six directions: up, down, north, south, east and west."

Discouraged, Harry and Hermione, who had unconsciously been leaning forward, collapsed against the backs of their chairs. "Professor – Headmaster Snape, I mean," Hermione glanced at Black, "used just that in the potion he created."

"Humph. Well, what did he gather from the heavens?" Wakemeadow asked, disappointed that they already knew about his discovery.

"A meteorite fragment. And from the earth, a freshly cooled lava rock," answered Harry.

"North and south?"

"A talisman and dung as processed by Egyptian scarabs."

"Occident and orient?"

"Magic seaweed and dragon eggshell fragments."

Wakemeadow leaned back in his chair. "Headmaster Snape seems to have thought of everything. I'm confused, then, as to why the potion didn't cure young Mr. Weasley. Perhaps the proportion of the various ingredients is off?"

"I could bring in his arithmancy calculations," Hermione offered.

Albus drummed his fingers on the arm of his painted chair. "We can try that, but arithmancy has made great strides in the past several centuries and Severus knows his business too well to make such errors. He would have triple checked everything before he began."

For a minute there was silence in the room as people and portraits gazed around in disappointment.

Hermione held back a tear thinking about the past week. "At least Ron's stable. Professor Snape warned us there was only a two-thirds chance of success, but I'd hoped…." Headmaster Black looked like he was about to correct her, but stayed silent when McGonagall glared at him.

Harry closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "Everything was going too well. Merlin, I even found a clan of oceanic merpeople in the middle of the Atlantic – figure the odds! And Ginny didn't have to settle for the Armortail shell fragments – she was able to find actual Xian Raptor fragments! And Hermione was …"

He was interrupted by Wakemeadow. "Xian Raptor? I'm very familiar with Persian fauna and I know of no such dragon."

Hermione opened her eyes. "Persian? The Xian Raptor is Chinese."

Wakemeadow looked confused. "You said you had retrieved dragon egg shell fragments from the Orient."

Hermione sat up. "Orient…" she repeated to herself. She began to laugh almost hysterically. "Of course. Why didn't I think of that? In the old days, the Orient was centered around the kingdom of Persia and the knowledge of anything beyond where Iran is would have been so vague as to almost be a myth."

Harry looked at her. "So does that mean we need something from Iran?"

"Maybe." She got up with a renewed sense of determination and went to the floo. "Professor Snape?"

"Headmaster!" hissed Black.

After a moment, Snape's head appeared. "Yes?" he asked irately. Harry was glad it was Hermione calling the potions master. Even through the flames he could see how exhausted Snape looked. The professor would be less inclined to snap at Hermione than himself, he hoped.

"Professor, Healer Wakemeadow has thought of something that might be very important concerning the potion for Ron. Can you bring your arithmancy calculations and come through?"

Grumbling, Snape withdrew his head, but stepped through a minute later with a pile of parchments in his hand. He was not pleased to see McGonagall was to be included in the discussion about the potion since it meant yet another person was aware of his role, but she smiled at him. "Severus! As always, I'm delighted to see you! Hermione and Harry have told me what you're doing for Ron. Oh, don't grumble so. I know you don't like others to know the best of you."

"I know you can keep a secret," Snape allowed, mollified by her words, as he summoned a chair and small table on which to spread his work.

"You know I'll deny I saw you today," McGonagall said seriously. "Everyone in this room knows MLE made a foolish policy when they forbade contact with you, much less in in this matter."

Snape nodded in acknowledgement and seemed appeased. He looked up at the crowded portrait behind the headmistress's desk. "It's good to see all of you again. Healer Wakemeadow, Mrs. Granger-Weasley said you discovered something of significance regarding the potion for Mr. Weasley."

Wakemeadow puffed out his chest in importance. "The lass here was describing the ingredients and mentioned dragon eggshell fragments. Knowing the Orient has a number of types of dragons, I of course agreed you were on the right track. But then she mentioned a Xian Raptor, I believe."

Snape cocked his head. "Yes, that would have been the most powerful dragon at the time."

Wakemeadow adamantly shook his head. "In my vast studies I have not come across any such dragon in the Orient."

Hermione almost jumped out her chair and broke into the conversation. "Don't you see, Professor? Perhaps the formula doesn't require something from China, but something from the old Orient, what was then Persia!"

Snape froze, thinking rapidly. "Perhaps…"

Harry stood up. "If you give me a new portkey and tell me what breed, I'll head that way right now."

Snape held out a hand. "That may not be necessary. Sit down, Potter." He summoned a quill from McGonagall's desk and began writing furiously. The others barely dared to move in fear of disturbing his concentration. Finally he looked up.

"Of course! I should have known. Mr. Potter, you will not need to catch a portkey. I believe I can obtain what I need here in Britain."

McGonagall looked confused. "You can purchase the eggs of Persian dragons in Diagon Alley?"

Snape shook his head. "Not there, but in Knockturn Alley, though not easily. However, that's not important. I focused on dragon eggshells because they represented the most powerful magic ingredient from China. Since we are now looking for something from Persia, the magical component is different. It still won't be easy to obtain since what I seek has been banned by the Ministry of Magic, but many of the old families have at least one in their vault."

Hermione tilted her head. "Is it a jewel of some sort?"

Again, Snape shook his head. "The potion requires an additional ingredient representing life. Specifically, the animal kingdom. Fortunately, I don't need the animal itself. Just as with the dung beetle, I can use its product instead – its fur or the protein fiber it produces."

"Fiber … do you need an old dress robe?" asked Hermione.

Snape snorted. "I believe it would be a more powerful ingredient if it had been woven into an intrinsically magical item."

Harry, who happened to be looking at the floor, exclaimed, "A flying carpet!"

Snape smiled in agreement. "Precisely - the most magical item from ancient Persia. Fortunately, the ban on such carpets here in Britain is relatively recent, and they are still legal in other countries. Finding one shouldn't be difficult. It will be harder to convince the owner to let me cut off what I need for the potion, as that will ruin its flying ability and intrinsic value."

"I'll check the Potter vault. There may be one in there and I don't mind if you have to cut a big sodding hole right through the center."

McGonagall smiled. "You don't have to do that, Harry. Hogwarts has several and I don't mind donating one to the cause." She called out, "Miffy!"

A small house-elf appeared. "Yes, Mistress?"

"Bring me the magic carpets in storage."

Miffy's eyes became round. "All of them?" she squeaked.

"Yes, please," replied the Headmistress. Miffy disappeared with a pop, returning a few seconds later, hunched over and carrying a tall bundle of carpets precariously balanced on her head.

Snape drew his wand and levitated them from the house-elf onto the floor. He began to go through them, quickly appraising their quality by sight and feel. The others gathered around. "How beautiful!" Hermione exclaimed as one with an elaborate flower motif appeared.

Snape nodded distractedly. "Yes, a possibility." He directed that one off to one side and kept going through the pile. He had almost reached the bottom when he stopped. The others gasped. The carpet that had caught their attention was smaller than most of the others. The borders were an intricate pattern of red and blue. In the middle, a shiny green and yellow dragon with red eyes shimmered. Snape rubbed his hand over the rug; when he reached the dragon it arched in response. "Perfect! This carpet is primarily wool, but the dragon is woven out of silk. Just as silk protects the chrysalis as the caterpillar undergoes metamorphosis into a butterfly, in the potion it will protect Mr. Weasley's magical core as it rebuilds." He reverently put it to the side. The remainder of the stack was quickly discarded.

"Miffy, you may put all but this one back in storage," the Headmistress directed. When the house-elf had once again disappeared with her top-heavy load, the others stood around the dragon carpet. "It's a shame that it's had to have been hidden since the ban," she said.

"Can you imagine quidditch on rugs rather than brooms?" asked Harry to no one in particular.

Snape walked over to the parchments that still littered the table next to his chair. "I should only need fourteen grams of material," he said to McGonagall after reviewing his calculations. "With your permission?"

The Headmistress nodded. "Aye." She summoned over a balance scale and weights.

After carefully looking once more at the pattern, Snape used his wand to flip the carpet over. The others watched as he carefully snipped threads from a variety of places, placing them one by one on the scale. Occasionally he'd flip the rug over to see what the cuts looked like on the top. When he had enough, he flipped the rug over again for the final time. With smoke steaming from its nostrils, the dragon glared angrily at him with fiery eyes, but the others had to look hard to see where the cuts had been made. "It won't fly properly," Snape said to the room at large, "but it hasn't completely lost the ability to do so, and perhaps in the future a restorer can mend it. If you'll excuse me…" He took out a vial from a pocket, carefully transferred the threads into it, and gathered up his parchments.

Apprehensively, Hermione spoke up with dread in her voice. "I assume I'll need to find another Mjolnir, but do you have enough of everything else?" She mentally began to envision the daunting task of searching countless Scandinavian muggle pawn shops, antique boutiques and used jewelry stores in the slim hopes of finding another previously unidentified magical Thor's Hammer. The odds of success were stacked against her…

Snape smirked. "A good potions master always prepares for contingencies. I made enough in case modifications were needed. I'll be able to incorporate the threads into what I have left."

Hermione breathed a tremendous sigh of relief. "How long will it take you to modify the potion?"

Snape looked back as he was about to step through the floo. "I'll start as soon as I get back. Meet me with your daughter at the usual place at seven tomorrow morning." With a rush of flames, he disappeared.

ATDATDATD

Sunday morning, Hermione and a bleary-eyed Rose once again met Snape in the office building stairwell. "Hugo's still asleep," Hermione informed the potions master. "I slipped him a sleeping potion last night so he'll be out until lunchtime. He needs the sleep anyway, and this way Rose won't have to worry about him finding out about her role."

Snape nodded in approval. After the transformation, Rose returned home and Snape and Hermione apparated to St. Mungo's. With Ron's stabilization, the waiting alcove was much less crowded than it had been the week prior. Although more would come later in the day, at this time only Molly, Arthur, Charlie, Ginny, and Harry were seated on various sofas and chairs. Pots of coffee and tea hovered in the corners.

Ginny and Harry rose to greet the newcomers. "Is everything ready?" asked Ginny as she hugged Hermione. Snape-as-Rose mentally rolled his eyes when Ginny did not hug him. He took the initiative. "I need you to distract your parents and brother when I go in," he whispered to the three of them.

Molly approached the group before they could respond. "Hugo's not coming in this morning?"

"He's exhausted. I wanted to let him catch up on his sleep, especially since the kids will be returning to Hogwarts tomorrow before class," Hermione explained. "I'll bring him here after lunch."

"Grandmum, I can't breathe," choked out Snape-as-Rose, enveloped in Molly's embrace.

"Of course, dear," responded Molly distractedly. "The healer was just here. He said now's a good time if you want to say hello to your father. Give him a special hug from me and Granddad, won't you dear?"

"Yes, Grandmum," responded Snape-as-Rose, taking a deep breath.

When Snape-as-Rose entered Ron's room, Harry went to Arthur and Ginny approached Charlie while Hermione stayed with Molly. Snape-as-Rose glanced at the window and saw no one was watching him. He quickly forced the revised potion down Ron's throat, then sat down next to him. Feeling odd, he leaned over and gave Ron a hug. "That's from your mother and father," he muttered. "The things I do in the name of healing."

He later realized that it was only because he was so close to Ron that he felt a small rise in the auror's magical core.

ATDATDATD

A week later, Hermione returned to Snape's house. Nuala met her at the door with Fianna in her arms. She smiled at Hermione. "Is your man home yet?"

Hermione smiled too. "Yesterday. Is the Professor in?"

"Aye. He told me to tell you to wait in the kitchen."

Stephen and Patrick ran into the kitchen and grabbed a cookie. As they were racing back out, Snape appeared. "No running in the house!"

"Yes, Da!" came down the hall in response.

Snape shook his head and picked up Fianna from Nuala's arms. "You won't be so obstreperous, will you, my witch?"

Hermione gave a small laugh. "I wouldn't count on it, Professor. Girls can be just as bad."

Snape let out a theatrical groan. "Surely you were never as disrespectful."

Hermione grinned. "You've already forgotten Hogwarts?"

Snape raised his eyebrows while summoning a cup and sitting down. "I do believe you almost set the record for the fewest number of detentions."

"That's because I was smart enough to avoid being caught."

Snape snorted. "In that case, Stephen will be the one who sets a new record. He can be too smart for his own good."

Nuala unconsciously rubbed Fianna's hair. "Now, Severus, you're exaggerating. He's a good boyo."

Snape put his hand on hers. "You're right as always, Nuala." He looked over at Hermione. "Why are you here? Has your husband had a relapse?" he asked with concern.

Hermione shook her head. "He's doing much better. The healers said he'll be able to return to work next week. He's thinking about leaving the MLE, though. It was a very close call, and would have gone the other way had it not been for you."

Nuala retook Fianna from her husband. "Aye. I would not want Severus to be risking his life so."

Hermione saw a small softening in Snape's countenance. Smiling to herself, she reached into her pocket, took out a bag, and enlarged it before pulling out some items. "I want to give you and your family some gifts in appreciation for what you have done."

"You do remember you owe Fianna and me a debt, don't you?" Snape asked dryly.

"Yes, but that's for the future. I'd like to give you a little something now." She lifted up a selection of teas. "For you, Nuala, for your hospitality." Next came a glass stirring rod. "I hope will find this useful, Professor." Snape gave it a close examination and nodded.

"Harry actually suggested Stephen's gift." She opened a box. "This is a practice snitch. For Patrick," she continued, "a book, of course. This was Hugo's favorite when he was three." The book's cover showed a dragon chasing a wizard around a hill. She looked at Nuala. "For Fianna, I wanted to show my special gratitude, though she obviously has no idea what went on. I had a lot of time this week while Ron was healing in the hospital." She picked up a green quilt decorated with prancing unicorns. "It's not perfect, but I imbued it with protective charms while I was knitting it."

"You do realize the debt increased when she contributed to the potion, don't you?" asked Snape.

"Yes, and it was worth it."

Nuala picked up the quilt with her free hand and rubbed the blanket between her fingers, feeling its softness. An image of a rearing unicorn emerged in the air. Fianna squealed in laughter. Smiling, Nuala looked at her husband and at some signal invisible to Hermione began to speak. "Since you're tied to her already, would you consent to be Fianna's godmother?"

Hermione's smile brightened the room. "I'd be honored."

Snape snorted. "My daughter with a Gryffindor godmother. Mrs. Granger-Weasely, the next time you need a potion, please just ask."

 _Thank you for reading my story. I'd love to hear what you thought of it. Please review!_


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